The Spy's Weakness
by livingblues
Summary: Series of one shots where Tony Stark's daughter, Jessica Stark, is dating the Black Widow. One shots revolve around situations where Jessica is hurt, sick, or in danger, and how the Avengers all protect her as family. Focus on father-daughter relationship. (Avengers in this fic currently include Widow, Hawkeye, Hulk, Ironman, Cap, and Thor). Oh, and watch out for triggers!
1. Tony finds out his daughter is gay

TONY FINDS OUT HIS DAUGHTER IS GAY/SLEEPING WITH THE BLACK WIDOW

Jessica wasn't sure what it meant yet, when the mysterious and agonizingly beautiful spy Natasha Romanoff followed her into her bedroom and shut the door behind them. It had happened several times now. Sex with Natasha was like nothing Jessica had ever experienced before, and she'd experienced plenty of sex in her twenty-one years. Men, women - sometimes both simultaneously. Natasha was different. Bold and soft in the same touch. Almost painfully slow - dragging it out, no rush, like she'd lie there and fuck Jessica forever if she could.

And by God, sometimes it felt like forever. Sex with Natasha Romanoff, above all else, was like cramming an eternity of pleasure into an hour. Two, if they were lucky.

But beyond the sex, Jessica didn't know what to think. Sure she was attracted to Natasha - more attracted to her than anyone she'd been attracted to in her entire life - but her feelings ran deeper than that. She'd accidentally electrocute herself a couple times a day working in the lab, distracted by thoughts of the spy's thick red hair and enchanting emerald irises. She'd pace by the front door waiting for her to return from her missions, keeping time with the frenzied beating of her heart. She'd wake up in sweats, having envisioned Natasha's death in her nightmares. Tears in her eyes and clay in her throat at the thought of losing her.

The hard part was getting time alone with Natasha. Amidst all of her work for Fury, for the Avengers, for her status as the best Goddamn spy on Earth, there wasn't much space left over for a relationship. If that was even what this was. Dating a spy - or sleeping with a spy, at least - wasn't exactly like reading from an open book. More like eagerly _observing_ the book's front cover from across the room, praying for a telescope. There was only one thing Jessica really knew for certain, from the hours she had managed to enjoy in Natasha's company.

She was in love with her. Completely, uncontrollably in love.

"God…" Jessica tried to whisper but moaned instead, her back arching on the mattress. The writhing of her body was so intense it crumpled the bed sheets, leaving distinct crinkles in the fabric.

Natasha's eyes appeared between Jessica's legs, the rest of her face still shielded behind Jessica's aching centre. Even still, Jessica could tell she was smiling.

"Wanna taste?" Natasha murmured. Her voice vibrated against Jessica's flesh.

The spy crawled her way up the length of Jessica's body with a feline fluidity, finally meeting Jessica's lips and kissing her until they both saw stars. Possibly a need for oxygen. Neither woman cared.

And then Natasha's fingers were inside her. Still kissing, Jessica released a low and completely undignified groan. She ground her skin up against Natasha's equally bare form, revelling in the shared heat. The sweat.

As Jessica inched closer and closer to her climax, she couldn't control the noise building in the back of her throat. Each breath came out in a short squeak or grunt of pleasure, her chest jolting up and down.

She must have gotten even louder than she thought, because out of nowhere a knock sounded at the bedroom door. It came three times; sharp and strong. Urgent.

"Jessica?" A familiar voice carrying an unfamiliar tone. Tight with uncertainty and concern. "Jessie, you okay?"

" _Fuck_ ," Jessica hissed. She moved to push Natasha away, but the spy had already moved. She rolled off the edge of the bed and swept herself up in a blanket all in the same second. Jessica sat up straighter, trying to pull the remaining bed sheet over her body.

Another knock vibrated against the door's surface. "What're you up to in there?"

Natasha turned to look at Jessica with a deadly calm expression. "It's Tony."

"Yes, thank you for that helpful insight," Jessica shot her return. To the (thankfully still closed) door, she called, "Nothing! Everything's fine!"

She stood up, scanning the room frantically for her clothes, but unfortunately happened to trip on the loose bedding before she had a chance to put anything on.

"Agh!" Jessica cried out, collapsing to the floor. Her forearm caught the edge of the nightstand as she went down in her attempt to break the fall, ripping the skin open with sheer blunt force. The pain only registered with her a moment after she had the chance to think, _God, why do you have to be such a klutz_?

Natasha, who'd been on the other side of the bed and unable to catch her, immediately leapt over the mattress. She leaned down to get a look at Jessica's arm, already using one of the discarded shirts to put pressure on the wound.

Just to prove that things could in fact get worse, the bedroom door burst open. A frenzied Mr Tony Stark, also known as Jessica's father, busted into the room, his eyes big with panic.

"I heard a yell," he proclaimed. "Why was there a yell?"

That was when he caught sight of Jessica, his barely-legal-to-drink daughter, naked but for a flimsy sheet, on the floor, bleeding. Not to mention, joined by equally-naked super spy Natasha Romanoff. He stumbled back a step, almost like he'd been kicked in the chest.

The dots connected in Tony's head, but they drew him to an incorrect conclusion. He stormed toward Natasha, seized the spy by her shoulder, and shoved her off Jessica.

"What the hell did you do?" he demanded, crouching down to take over Jessica's bleeding arm. He forced his daughter to look him in the eye. "Huh? What did she do?"

"What? Nothing!" Jessica tried to pull away from him. "She didn't do anything!"

"Oh yeah?" Tony quipped. "In that case, gonna explain how you end up all bloody on your bedroom floor?"

"I-we -" Jessica cut herself off, glaring up at Natasha helplessly.

At which point, Natasha very simply stated, "We were having sex."

The words seemed to fly right over Tony's head. He laughed once. "Sure you were."

"Dad." Blushing so hard she thought her face would explode, Jessica spoke softly. "It's true."

After another moment, Tony's glance swapping between either woman, waiting for them to break into grins and tell him he'd been punk'd, his face dropped. Finally setting his stare on Natasha, he pursed his lips. Swallowed.

"Jessica, dear. Wait for me in the med bay."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "It's just a cut, I don't need to go to the med bay."

"Jessica." Tony's voice got even harder, somehow. "Med bay. Now."

"But Dad -"

" _It wasn't a question_."

Natasha gave Jessica a look that was soft and stern at the same time; a silent promise. _I can handle this._

So, in spite of her usual reluctance to obey direct orders (truly her father's daughter), Jessica did as she was told. Cradling her injured arm in the shirt Natasha had given her, she drifted out of the room, casting a final uncertain glance behind her before she disappeared.

Tony waited until her couldn't hear Jessica's footsteps anymore before he lost his mind. He shot up off the floor, got right in Natasha's face, and took a deep breath as though to calm himself. It quite clearly did not work, as his face reddened and the tendons in his neck bulged.

"You've got some nerve, Romanoff," he growled.

Natasha seemed unaffected by Tony's anger. Though she was protected by nothing more than a cotton blanket, she stood with her shoulders tall as ever and her expression set.

"I understand that you're upset," she begun. "I apologize for this period of….confusion."

"Confusion? _Confusion?_ I just caught you feeling up my baby girl!"

"With all due respect, Tony, your daughter is an adult. She is free to make her own decisions."

"Don't." Tony jabbed a finger at her. "Don't you do that. You know this has nothing to do with Jessica. I trust my daughter. Sure it would've been nice to know that she was into girls, but I could give a rat's ass about that. My problem is with you."

Natasha's expression didn't falter, but something flickered in her eyes. She said, "Enlighten me."

"You're one of the most wanted spies across the whole globe! Your job is, arguably, more dangerous than any other profession in the world. That is _not_ the kind of danger I want Jess to be associated with. No way. If anyone finds out about whatever's going on between you two, she becomes a target. Being the only kid of Tony Stark gives her enough time under the spotlight as it is."

At that, Natasha folded her arms, and her jaw tightened. "I would never let anything happen to Jessica."

"Oh, yeah, course not." Tony scoffed. "Can't be without your sweet little fuck buddy, now can you?"

Suddenly Natasha's arms snapped out. She shoved Tony back, hard, at least three feet.

Tony's jaw dropped. "What the hell, Romanoff! I'm the one angry at you, remember?"

Natasha's lip curled. "Don't talk about her like that. Jessica is not just a sweet little fuckbuddy. She's important to me, too."

"Of course she is. She's important to all of us!"

"No." Natasha shook her head. "It's different."

"Different how?"

Natasha opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it. Instead she said, "That's a conversation I would rather have with Jessica present."

"You know what?" Tony nodded. "I'm gonna agree with you on that one, just to shake things up. I think it's time we both had a nice big chat with Jessica."

Jessica had no intention of going to the med bay like her father requested. She didn't feel the need to bother the small crew of overqualified medical staff her dad kept on standby in the Avengers Tower. She could deal with some stupid cut herself. Besides, she needed something to do with her hands to distract her from whatever the hell might've been going down back in her bedroom between Natasha and Tony.

Unfortunately, just as Jessica opened the top right cupboard in the communal kitchen to get out the first aid kid, another person entered the room.

Seeing the long stream of chocolate brown curls, Captain Steve Rodgers perked up. "Hey, Jess." Then he must've noticed her lack of usual attire; no ripped jeans or print tee. Not even her rounded black glasses, without which she was practically blind. He frowned, hovering back for a moment as he watched her struggle to reach for the first aid kit on her toes. "Need a hand?"

"Uh…" Jessica tried a laugh, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

Steve rounded the kitchen counter and effortlessly plucked the first aid kit off the shelf. He handed it to Jessica, half amused and half concerned. "Everything alright? You just seem to be a little…" he struggled for the right word, taking in her blanketed figure. "Dishevelled." Then he remembered the first aid kit and frowned again. "Are you okay? Sick?"

"No, no," she hurried to assure him. One hand holding the bed sheet in place, she used the other to pop open the kit and dig out a couple of bandaids. "Just got a little scratch."

"A little scratch?" Finally Steve caught sight of Jessica's arm, still wrapped up in a shirt, but dripping little dew drops of blood to the tiles nonetheless. His eyes popped. He bolted into action, like a reflex, and gently took her arm in his hands. He pulled back the shirt, examining the wound, and pursed his lips unhappily.

"Damnit, Jess, why didn't you say something earlier?"

"It's not a big deal," she promised. "I've got it."

"Uh-uh," Steve said. "I don't think so." He gestured to the counter. "Up."

"What?"

Steve put his hands around Jessica's waist and hoisted her up into the air, dropping her gently on the kitchen counter top. Jessica caught a gasp between her teeth, not expecting the movement.

"C'mon, Cap," she said, "what're you doing?"

"Exactly what I was trained to do, ma'am." Steve flashed her a light-hearted smile. "Patching up a fallen soldier."

He rinsed the wound and wiped it down with antiseptic, much to Jessica's discomfort. At her wince, Steve put a hand on her leg and offered a quick apology.

"You know," she told him, trying not to grit her teeth too hard at the pain. "I'm not actually a soldier. The closest I've ever gotten to being in the field was when Loki and the Chitauri invaded New York."

"Mm," Steve muttered, focused on his task. "Let's hope it stays that way."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, rolling a thick bandaid over her arm, "that I don't exactly like the idea of Jessica Stark being in harm's way."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a big girl, Cap."

"That may be true. But, you're also _our_ girl. All of us here in the Avengers Tower would do anything to keep you safe."

Jessica had to smother a smile at that. With her dad living such a crazy rockstar life all these years and her basically paving her own way as a tech-genius-punk-rocker chick, it was nice to know that she was part of a bigger family that cared about her so much. All of the Avengers - Bruce, Steve, Clint, Thor, Natasha….

Jessica looked away, suddenly reminded of the situation at hand. _God, Natasha._

Seeing her face change, Steve put a couple fingers under Jessica's chin so she'd meet his eye. "You sure everything's alright, Jess?"

She nodded instinctively, and opened her mouth to respond, _absolutely, all peachy here_ , when one Tony Stark barged into the room, the Black Widow on his tail. He didn't seem to have lost any of the angst he'd been carrying since he walked in on Natasha and his daughter having sex. Seeing Jessica still sitting atop the bench, accompanied by Steve, he clapped his hands and called out, "JARVIS!"

" _Yes, sir,_ " responded an automated British voice.

Eyes still glued to Jessica, Tony said, "Gather the troops. Team meeting."

Jessica groaned, her head tipping back in exasperation. "Dad…"

"Now!" Tony barked.

Within a matter of minutes, the Avengers had assembled around the kitchen, exchanging confused expressions. The only people who seemed to know what was going on remained silent as questions got fired into the air. Several "what's going on"s and a couple "we got a problem?"s. Jessica closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Natasha stared straight ahead, face blank. Tony stood in the centre of the space, arms folded, and jaw hard as granite. He waited for everyone to quieten down.

And finally, he said, "It seems there has been a scandal in the workplace. A scandal involving our very own Black Widow and my lovely, misguided daughter, Jessica Stark."

The Avengers shared another round of uncertain glances. Clint was first to speak. He cleared his throat.

"You're gonna have to be more explicit, Stark."

"Explicit?" Tony barked out a dry, sour laugh. "Oh, I'll give you explicit. Guess who just walked in on Natasha getting in some fun _naked_ action with my daughter?"

Now _that_ stirred up some bigger reactions. Steve stepped back from Jessica like he'd only just realized she was naked beneath the sheet. Bruce shuffled his feet and cleared his throat, doing his best not to envision the scene of Jessica - a girl he considered himself to be a second father for - all sexed up. Thor released a short "oh". And Clint rubbed his mouth, trying to conceal a smirk. He hadn't picked it, not exactly, but he knew _some_ thing had been up between Nat and Jess. Suspicions confirmed.

"So tell me," Tony demanded. "Who knew about this? Huh? Am I the last one to be let in the loop?"

"Tony," Natasha ground out, "don't."

"No one knew," Jessica insisted. "We never told anyone."

"Well you certainly never mentioned it to me, that's for damn sure," Tony shot.

Having read the shock on everyone's faces, Steve put in, "Tony, really, none of us had any idea."

"And what's the big deal anyway?" Jessica pressed. She couldn't help the lump that formed in her throat at the following prospect. "I didn't think you'd mind if I was gay. I just never told you cause I…I was worried. That for some reason you wouldn't be okay with that." She sniffled sharply and shook her head; disappointed in her father, and disappointed in herself. "Judging on your reaction, I guess I was right."

Silence dropped over the room with the force of a brick. All eyes stuck to Jessica while she stared at the hands in her lap, avoiding everyone's now-soft expressions. She didn't want their sympathy. She just wanted this moment to be over. But knowing her, she'd probably trip over the bed sheet before she made it three feet out the door.

Then, out of nowhere, Thor's voice blurted, "You're _gay_?"

Jessica gave a short chuckle, biting on her bottom lip to distract herself from the threatening tears. The whole 'coming out' conversation wasn't something she ever really planned on having with Tony. Never sure how exactly to word it. Worried about what would happen if the news hit the press - _DAUGHTER OF TONY STARK A LESBIAN, DUE TO INADEQUATE FATHER FIGURE?_ Worried it would make him uncomfortable. Make him see her differently. The pair of them were close, no doubt about it, but most of their bonding activities revolved around tinkering and programming in Tony's lab.

"Yup," she said at last. "Very much so."

"Jessie…" Finally Tony seemed to regain movement. He paced across the room and met Jessica at the kitchen counter. She didn't look up at his approach, still glaring into her lap, even as he grasped her hands and leaned in close.

"Jessica," he said, more sternly. "Look at me."

Still biting her lip, Jessica looked up. Her father's face bore an unfamiliar softness, his eyes wide and pressing.

He told her, "I could care less if you're gay. You know that crap doesn't matter to me, don't you?"

She shrugged one shoulder.

"Hey." He held her hands tighter. "It doesn't. At all. You're my Jessie, and I love you. No matter what. This doesn't change anything."

Jessica's lenses flickered, illuminating the hazel colour of her irises. "Yeah?"

"Absolutely yeah. Of course yeah. And anyone who doesn't like that can suck an egg." Tony pulled back, extending his arms in a simultaneous invitation and warning. "You guys all hear that? Anyone not on board with Jess being a big fat lesbian can get the hell out of my house. Understood?"

"Understood," from Captain Rodgers.

"Hell yeah," from Clint.

"No issues here," from Thor.

"Absolutely," from Bruce. He smiled. "Proud of you, Jess."

She smiled back. "Thanks." But then she frowned. "But, if you're okay with me being gay, what's the problem with Natasha?"

Natasha, who had been silent for most of the conversation, spoke up in a low voice. "He's concerned I'm not the best fit for you."

Jessica gave her father a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tony sighed. He tried to think of the kindest words to put forward, but - in classic Tony Stark style - gave up on that and just said the first thing that came to mind. "Getting together with a super spy isn't exactly the safest way to go about dating. If you wanted some more adrenaline in your life I could've just as easily have taken you bungee jumping or something."

" _Adrenaline_?" Jessica repeated. She glanced about the room, waiting for someone to back her up, but then she remembered that no one here knew exactly what was going on. Her eyes met Natasha, but the spy gave away nothing (big shocker there).

Much like her father, Jessica decided to run with whatever popped into her head. She pushed Tony away from her and slid off the kitchen counter so she could position herself in a defiant standing pose. "This isn't about some stupid junkie rush. I've already done enough of that with sex. Lots of other, random sex."

" _What_?" Several voices demanded at the same time.

Jessica waved her hand. "It doesn't matter. I'm saying that Natasha is different. She's the best -"

Tony held up his finger. "If you make one more comment about your sex life, young lady, I will officially commit you to a convent."

" - the best _relationship_ I've ever had," Jessica finished. "Not because it's secret, not because it's forbidden, not because it's dangerous, but because…." she stopped, trying to find the right word. She breathed heavily, face flushed, eyes alight.

"Because I love her."

Jessica's gaze snapped back across to find Natasha. The spy still hadn't given away anything on her face, but she padded soundlessly across the room until she reached Jessica, never breaking eye contact. Once they were barely a hair's width apart, Natasha inhaled deeply. Only then could anyone tell how much feeling surged through her, as her breath trembled on the way back out.

She said again, almost whispering, "I love her."

At the faraway ache on her face, Jessica suddenly realized she was grinning. She held Natasha by the waist. "You do?"

Natasha nodded. Slowly, she returned a gentle smile. "More than anything."

Momentarily forgetting all the other Avengers in the room, Jessica leaned in and kissed the spy on the lips. They breathed in together, inhaling each other, and pressed their bodies together. Unable to be close enough.

Eventually, they heard the sound of someone clearing their throat (quite loudly), and pulled apart. They shared a final devilish smile before facing the rest of the room.

Some of the Avengers tried to make their reactions more discreet than others, but all in all their expressions were a mixture of shock and discomfort with a hint of joviality. Jessica being the youngest person in the Avengers Tower, most of the others considered her a younger sister, niece or daughter type, so to watch her making out with someone was a bit of an awkward experience. Let alone making out with their very own Black Widow. Most of them tried to convince themselves, and Jessica, that they had reason to be concerned for her: she was a small, thin girl, so obsessed with her work in Stark Tower she'd frequently miss meals and sleep. She was a desk jockey - unequipped, in their opinion, to properly protect herself outside the tower. And, as more than a couple of the Avengers suspected, she had her issues. Psychologically and physically. Each and every Avenger felt the need to look out for her, whether she liked it or not.

"So…" Steve broke the silence. "This is really happening, huh? You and Nat together." He smiled. "It's nice."

Jessica and Natasha snuck a look at each other, then looked back to Steve. "I guess so," said Jessica. She dared to meet her father's unreadable glare, and plucked up the courage to tell him, "I'm sorry, dad, if that….displeases you. But I can't help how I feel. Not about her."

Tony sighed. After a beat, he set his glare on Natasha. "You can promise me you'll keep my girl safe?"

"At all costs," Natasha responded without a moment's hesitation.

Tony's glare narrowed even further. "If I found out you've hurt her, or let her get hurt, in any way possible, I swear to God I'll -"

"Dad," Jessica snapped.

Tony stopped himself. He said, "Right. I think I've made myself clear."

"Crystal," Thor piped up.

"Alright." With another deep breath, Tony nodded. "I guess that's that."

"Thank God," Jessica muttered. "Does that mean I can go and put some clothes on now?"

Bruce cleared his throat. "Yes please."

"I think I'll do the same," Natasha announced.

They had almost made it, striding away to their separate bedrooms, when Tony's voice rang out from behind them.

"Oh, and for future reference - tell JARVIS to lock the door!"

Jessica turned around. " _Dad_!"


	2. Tony's daughter gets sick

TONY'S DAUGHTER GETS SICK

On the rare occasion Jessica woke up before eight in the morning, she knew it was going to be a bad day.

"Ugh," she groaned, curling into the foetal position in bed. It did nothing to relieve the agonizing churning sensation in her gut or the banging in her head. Nor did it halt, or even slow, the puke rising in her throat.

Spitting out a curse, she leapt out of bed and hurled herself over the toilet bowl. She remained in this position - sweating, shuddering and vomiting - until she was so faint that the only remaining bodily sensation was pain. But eventually, she found the strength to rise to her feet and wash out her mouth. Suddenly she realized she was absolutely freezing. Her shuddering had only grown more violent since she stood up. She swiped her thickest sweater and a pair of woollen socks on her way out the door, on a mission to retrieve some painkillers from the kitchen.

To Jessica's surprise, roughly ninety per cent of the Avengers were congregating in the kitchen area. It took her cloudy brain a moment to realize she wasn't used to seeing them all first thing in the morning because she was never out of bed by that point (unless, of course, she had pulled one of her notorious all-nighters).

Natasha was the first to notice Jessica stumbling in. Her eyes lit up. "Jess."

Several other heads spun around; Bruce and Thor from the kitchen table and Steve and Clint from behind the kitchen counter.

"Hey, kid," said Steve.

"Happy greetings, young Stark," said Thor.

"Morning," said Clint.

Bruce was the only one besides Natasha who sensed something was up. He asked, "You okay?"

Jessica didn't respond to any of them with more than a feeble wave, shuffling in with her ghostly pale face and purple panda eyes. She made for the kitchen cabinets and rummaged for her painkillers.

The Avengers shared a look, partially confused and partially concerned.

Steve deposited his bowl in the dishwasher and put a gentle hand on Jessica's back. "Feeling alright, doll?"

"Mm," she responded. "A little sick, I think."

"A lot sick, more like," Clint muttered.

She shook her head. "Couple painkillers and I'll be good as new."

Bruce stood up and slowly drifted toward her. "Where's the pain?"

"How long have you been feeling sick?" Nat added, also moving in Jessica's direction.

"Did you forget to take your meds yesterday?" asked Bruce. "Paroxetine can give you some nasty withdrawal symptoms if you're not careful."

Hand still on her back, Steve turned Jessica around so he could feel her forehead. His eyebrows shot up. "Jess, you're on fire."

Jessica swatted all three of them away. "Guys, please, it's fine. Must've just caught the flu or something. It'll pass."

But none of them were through with pestering her. Of the group, Steve seemed to be the most panicked, without the training in emotional suppression that Natasha and Bruce had undergone. He said, "Why on Earth are you wearing that huge sweater?" Frantically, he examined the freezer until he pulled out a packet of frozen peas. "Here." He wrapped them in a towel and practically shoved them in Jessica's face. "To cool you down."

But now Thor was in on the action. He stood up from his seat. "I'd be more than willing to escort Jessica to the infirmary. I can carry her." He paused. "And the frozen seeds."

"Oh my God," Jessica finally snapped, locating the painkillers and slamming the cupboard closed. "For the last time, it's nothing. I'm going back to my room."

Perhaps her parting words would have carried more power if Jessica hadn't taken exactly two steps before a spell of dizziness took over her body. She swayed uncontrollably, ears ringing. Fumbling for something to hold onto before she could completely humiliate herself by collapsing to the ground.

Thankfully, Clint offered himself as a stable platform for her to cling to so as to stay standing. She fell face-first against his chest, silently praying to God that she didn't puke all over him.

Several other pairs of hands came to her rescue, ready to catch her if she fell in another direction.

"Steady there, kiddo," Clint said, working to hold Jessica up by her arms.

Jessica regained her balance, more or less, a few seconds later. Ignoring the concerned mass of questions around her - "are you okay?", "can you hear me?", "why don't we get you a seat?" - she staggered out of the kitchen and into the nearest bathroom down the hall. Worried that if she dropped to her knees she might collapse entirely, she instead curled over the sink and hurled her guts up for the second time that morning.

Within seconds she felt soft but sure hands on her back, pulling her hair away from her face. She recognized Natasha's figure against her, holding her up until she was finished.

"Bednyy malysh," Natasha murmured, stroking Jessica's face as the younger woman went weak against her. Jessica recognized the malysh as meaning 'baby', but that was it.

"I got her," came another voice that Jessica vaguely knew to be Steve. Thick, firm arms swooped her right off her feet, carrying her down the hall.

"To the med bay, doc?" Steve asked.

Bruce appeared in Jessica's furry vision, hovering over Steve's shoulder. Deep lines appeared around his face, concern digging a trench between his eyebrows. "Too far. Let's just take her to her room."

"Shall I summon Master Stark?" Thor's voice called out from behind them, out of sight.

"No," Jessica said, lucid enough to process the conversation. She pulled her head up, neck joints screaming at its horrific weight, and met Bruce's eye. "He'll be asleep. Trust me, you don't want to disturb him."

"Trust me," Bruce responded, "he'll be a lot angrier if we don't."

"But -"

"Just relax, Jess," Steve said, holding her tighter against him. "Let's get you to bed. We can worry about everything else later."

She opened her mouth to protest further, but at the tender kiss Natasha dropped on her searing-hot forehead, she let it go.

Steve laid Jessica down on her bed, putting a restraining hand on her arm when she attempted to pull the blankets up over herself. Her teeth chattered.

"C-c-cold."

"You have a fever," Natasha told her softly, stroking back the pieces of hair stuck to the sweat on Jessica's forehead. Natasha's head turned around so she could give a meaningful look to the men in the room. "Turn around."

Bruce and Steve frowned. "What?"

Natasha turned back to Jessica. "Arms up."

The men only realized what was going on when Natasha lifted Jessica's sweater and shirt over her head, exposing her shiny and shaky form. Bruce and Steve perked up instantly, spinning around with awkward little sounds of shock.

"Oh."

"Ah."

Locating a thin cotton tank-top, Natasha helped Jessica put it on, and stripped her down to her underwear. She knew a severe fever when she felt one. The most important thing right now was to cool Jessica down.

Thor's and Clint's heads appeared around the doorframe just as Natasha had finished redressing Jessica.

"Our non-corporeal attendant has informed Master Stark," Thor told them.

"Need any help?" asked Clint.

"I think we're okay here for now," Bruce said. Realizing it was safe to turn around again, he approached Jessica's bedside and felt her head with the back of his hand for himself. His lips pursed. "Actually, I could really use a few ice packs from the med bay."

"On it." Clint strode off.

A bit uncertainly, Thor wandered in, looking for something to do. He grimaced at the sight of Jessica, whose face had taken on a faint green tint, body gleamed with sweat, and teeth clacked together behind a set of chapped white lips. He asked, "Might I summon a healer from Asgard? Of all the nine realms, we have been known to provide the finest medical care."

"Thanks, Thor," Jess mustered a smile. She coughed violently, the gesture sending splitting pain down her throat and the sharp sound of it adding to her headache. She took a deep breath to compose herself, and continued, "But I trust our residential specialist Dr Banner here."

"I'm hardly a specialist," Bruce laughed quietly, "but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Here," Steve said, moving in as well. He held up a packet of painkillers. "You dropped these in the kitchen."

"Oh thank God," Jessica rasped. She reached out. "I'll take them all."

"Ah, actually…" Steve examined the packet, squinting to read the fine print. "You will take two every six hours."

She groaned. "Please, just give me the medicine."

Natasha took the painkillers from Steve and popped a couple out, feeding them to Jessica with a glass of water on her bedside table.

"Drugging my daughter up now, Widow?"

Jessica just about choked on the pills in her throat. She finally managed to get it down, coughing and glaring at her father in the doorway. "Dad."

Tony held up his hands, walking into the room. "Just playing." He sat himself on Jessica's bedside and reached for her hand. "Feeling under the weather, squirt?"

She sighed. "A little."

"I can tell. You look like death."

"Hey." Steve folded his arms. "She's sick."

Natasha's glare was piercing. "Easy, Stark."

But Jessica just laughed. "Shut up."

Still smiling, Tony turned to look at Bruce. "What are her symptoms?"

"Uh…" Bruce made a mental list and then recited them. "Fever, dizziness, vomiting, cough." He met Jessica's eye. "Right?"

"Mm," she moaned, letting her head roll back. "And pain."

"Right." Bruce gave her a softer look. Tony squeezed her hand. "Pain."

Tony, traces of humour dissipated at the sight of his daughter suffering, asked Bruce, "So what's the prognosis, doc?"

Bruce sighed. "Can't be sure. We're either dealing with a common flu, or something more serious. It's too soon to tell."

"More serious?"

Bruce gave a helpless shrug. "A virus, some kind of poisoning, maybe postconcussive syndrome. I really couldn't say for certain."

Tony considered this response a moment, his face the image of calm - panic given away only by the bulging of tendons in his neck - and eventually nodded. "Okay," he said. Without another word, he scooped his daughter up from the mattress and got to his feet, Jessica in his arms. Everyone else around the bed - Natasha, Bruce and Steve - all jumped to attention at his movement.

"Should you be moving her?" Steve fretted.

"Med bay?" Natasha asked.

Tony shook his head, readjusting his grip so Jessica could rest her head against his shoulder. "Hospital."

Before any of the other Avengers could raise an objection, argue that a hospital visit was maybe a little premature, Tony bumped into Clint. At the blunt impact, Jessica's stomach turned.

"Watch where you're going," Tony snarled, hugging Jessica tighter, his paternal instincts bringing out the beast in him.

"Dad," Jessica tried to sit up in his arms, squirming uncomfortably. "Down. Down, down, down."

He glanced down at her, noticed the rising green in her cheeks, and reluctantly lowered her to the floor. On unsteady feet she raced for the bathroom, hand clasped over her mouth. A whole room full of Avengers rushed after her, desperate to help in some way, for any task that may relieve Jessica's suffering even just a little bit.

But this time, with the authority of fatherhood on his side, Tony shooed the imposing Avengers away from the bathroom and came to his daughter's aid. He pulled back her mess of warm brown curls and mapped circles out across her back. The tank top Natasha had dressed her in was already damp all the way through with sweat, though Jessica hadn't stopped shuddering, as though she was about to freeze to death.

Carefully making his way past Natasha and Steve in the bathroom doorway, Thor followed Tony in. He cleared his throat.

"Try this," he said, holding out a long piece of twine string.

Tony cast Thor a short glance, saw the string, but turned back to Jessica with a scowl. "The hell is that for?"

Realizing and understanding that Tony was past the point of reason - too absorbed by concern for his daughter - Thor dared to move in closer and get to his knees on Jessica's left, opposite Tony. Before Tony could snap his head off for intruding, the god collected Jessica's hair at her back and begun to tie it back with the string. Keeping it off her face.

Jaw hard, Tony gave Thor a nod. "Thanks."

After several minutes, Jessica finished. She slumped against the toilet basin, eyelids drooping and head swaying as if she were about to pass out. She coughed again. If nothing else, at least the gesture seemed to wake her up, pain shooting down her throat.

"Fucking hell," she rasped. "How long before those painkillers kick in?"

Steve leapt to action, snatching the packet she had used off the bed and giving it a quick scan. "Uhhhhh…..twenty minutes."

Jessica groaned, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment. "Maybe if you give me more, it'll speed up the process."

Bruce smiled sympathetically. "I'm afraid that's not how it works, sweetheart."

"No O.D'ing on my watch," Tony added.

Jessica rolled her eyes, or started to, before her whole body went faint again, the only sensation remaining being pain, and she pressed the heels of her palms into her forehead. "Great. Only fifteen more agonizing minutes to go."

"Hospital," Tony reasserted, "now."

But Jessica resisted him when he tried to lift her up again, frowning hard and shrinking against the tiled walls. "No. Dad. No hospitals."

"As crazy as it may seem," Steve spoke from the doorframe, his arms folded and brow furrowed with concern, "I've gotta agree with your dad on this one, doll. We don't know how serious this is."

Jessica held her hand out, like she was afraid Steve was going to try to take her away too. "Please. Right now all I want is to curl up on this toilet and wait for the world to stop spinning."

Tony tried one more time, reaching for her. "Jessie -"

"Just leave me alone," Jessica moaned. "I don't want to move. I don't want to move." Against every ounce of her will, she had to choke back tears. The pain, the nausea, the chills and the dizziness all came together as an enormous beast. One she was too tired to fight.

Seeing the flicker of moisture in his daughter's eyes, Tony let the matter drop. His whole body softened, all the way to his bones. "Okay," he whispered, leaning in to put a hand on her shoulder and rub her arm up and down. "Okay, baby girl. Whatever you want."

"Here," Bruce murmured, passing on the ice packs he'd taken from Clint. "She needs these."

Tony took the ice packs and gently placed them on Jessica's body; one on her forehead, the other on her chest. She flinched, trying to squirm away.

"Cold."

"They're ice packs." Tony chuckled. "'Cold' is kinda in the job description."

"She's got chills," Bruce supplied. "But her fever is through the roof."

Tony sighed. "Afraid these are non-negotiable, sweet-cheeks."

For the rest of the day, the Avengers took turns sitting with Jessica in the bathroom. She barely moved most of the time, only ever to puke or take a drink. She refused to eat anything, after trying a piece of bread and throwing it up almost instantly. The only thing her carers remained adamant about was that she keep drinking and didn't take off the ice packs.

While Thor had his hour in the bathroom watching over Jessica, trying to keep her spirits up with tales of Asgardian triumphs and mischief between childhood friends, the others shared a conversation in low tones. Trying to decide the next course of action.

"I still think she should get to a hospital," Steve insisted, "I've never seen Jess so sick."

Natasha folded her arms. "She wants to be here. I won't let you move her."

"Nat, she could be in danger. Like Banner said, this might be poison."

"I've seen poison. All kinds. I'd know if her life was in danger."

"And I've seen corpses on the battlefield - Jessie isn't looking so far off from a lot of them."

"Look," Bruce held up his hands, trying to placate the both of them, "I can give her a mild sedative, get her to the med bay, and if she still wants to come back down here tonight, that's her choice. At least in the med bay I can run some tests."

All eyes went to Tony, knowing full well that it was he would have the final word. His expression was steely, deep in thought, for several moments before he licked his lips to speak.

"No sedative. I'm not gonna drug her against her will. She wants to stay put, fine. Give her the rest of the day, and if there's no improvement, Banner can take her up and run his tests."

"And if she says no?" Steve pressed.

Tony paused. "Then I'll carry her myself."

A less emotionally attached person might've stepped in at this point to suggest the Avengers may have been overreacting slightly. But that person didn't know Jessica the same way these heroes did. Didn't watch her graduate high school at fourteen and blitz college, the daughter of an infamous billionaire but the with the tenderness and humility of a saint. (A lesbian, sexually-active, foul-mouthed, punk-rocker, tech-nerd saint. Close enough).

Nonetheless, Clint cleared his throat and mentioned, "Is it possible we're taking this a little too far? Like Banner said, she could just have the flu."

Four heads snapped toward the master archer.

"It's Jessica," Steve reminded him.

"I know," Clint said, "which is why I'm thinking maybe we're all too close to this."

These words seemed to diffuse the brief bout of outrage for a moment, as the Avengers exchanged thoughtful looks. Perhaps Clint had a point. But, within less than a minute, they all seemed to reach the same conclusion.

Tony's voice was hard. "I won't take that risk." He gave Clint a meaningful expression. "Would you?"

Clint sighed. "No, sir. I wouldn't."

"Good. End of discussion, then."

The sound of Jessica retching in the other room distracted the whole group. Thor's voice followed shortly after, offering soothing murmurs and encouraging comments.

"Oh, dear," they faintly heard Thor. "Good job, little Stark, get it all out. I'm sure it will soon cease…"

Of course Tony knew in his right mind that Thor was more than capable to look after Jessica while she was sick, but there was something deep in his gut that couldn't let him stand still in that moment. Couldn't let him do nothing.

He came in behind Thor. The god had his hand between Jessica's shoulder blades, patting lightly. Hardly anything came out of Jess at this point other than sharp, dry coughs and discoloured threads of stomach juices, but her body would be damned if she didn't at least try. It was easier for her to submit to her instincts than to fight them.

Tony clapped Thor on the shoulder, indicating the god could leave. Tony gave him a nod of thanks as he got up and drifted out, casting a final regretful look at Jessica, wishing there was something more he could do.

"Tony." Thor stopped the other man before he could sit down next to his daughter and pulled him close to speak in his ear. "Her pain. I believe it is worsening."

Tony acknowledged this information with a grim face. Pain was hardly an unfamiliar concept to Mr Stark, but when it involved his precious daughter…there was nothing he wouldn't do to have it resolved. Immediately. Just like that, he decided on his next move.

He knelt down next to Jessica just as she finished over the toilet bowl and sunk back to the tiles. "Hey, baby," he said, dabbing at her forehead with a damp flannel on the sink. "How's it hanging?"

She tried to smile, but her dry lips split and begun to bleed. "It's okay."

Tony pressed the flannel to her lips, absorbing the blood. "That so? Doesn't sound okay from where I'm standing."

She sighed. "I don't need the babysitting, Dad. Really. Honestly, I'd rather be left alone."

"Well, I'm afraid that ain't gonna fly. With me, or any of these guys."

Jessica only sighed again, her shoulders slumping. Tony frowned.

"What's really the problem, Jessie?"

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eye. "I just hate this," she muttered, her voice soft tone almost incoherent amidst the hoarseness of her vocal cords.

He reached forward to hold her hand. "Hate what?"

"Being all weak in front of you guys. I feel so stupid."

This, Tony was not expecting. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Dad. You guys are the freaking Avengers. You protect the world on a daily basis. And suddenly everything goes on hold just cause I catch a little bug?" She scoffed sourly. "Look at me right now. It's pathetic."

"Hey." He picked up Jessica's chin and forced her to look up at him. "Don't you talk like that. Not ever."

She twisted her head away. "It's the truth."

"Jess, you're sick. Very sick, at that. We all wouldn't be here if we didn't want to be."

"You shouldn't have to be," she whispered. "I should be strong enough to handle things on my own, like you guys do."

"Like we do?" Tony laughed. "Please. Between the group of us, 'Earth's mightiest heroes', we're probably toting around at least ten different cases of severe psychiatric and physical disorder. No one here is perfect, or invulnerable. Not by a long shot. But you know who all of us can always count on to have our backs?"

Jessica raised her eyebrows.

Tony nudged her. "It's you, genius."

Shock cleared Jessica's face for a moment before it softened into a smile. This time she was the one to reach for her dad's hand.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anytime kiddo."

Tony gave it about five seconds before he got himself up, brushed his pants off, and plucked Jessica up in his arms for the second time that day. She flinched, but didn't react in time to stop him.

"Dad," she said, "what're you doing?"

He carried her out of the bathroom, pulling her head in close so as not to bang it on the doorframe. "Figured you haven't got enough left in your stomach to puke all over me anymore, so I'm taking you to the med bay."

She rolled her eyes. "Is there any point in me arguing?"

"Nope."

Natasha and Bruce followed Tony up to the med bay, while Jess insisted the others go about their own business, after thanking them for looking after her. Reluctantly, they held back, making sure Dr Banner let them know the minute he found out anything.

Bruce spent about an hour on several tests, running Jessica's blood, saliva and urine for any abnormalities. Natasha sat at her bedside, holding her hand and stroking her hair, while Tony tried to study the results as though he knew anything about medical science.

He peered into a microscope focused on a plate with something that had come out of Jessica - he didn't know exactly what - and gasped. "Banner! There's something alive in her!" He peered in again. "And it's growing, fast. Oh God, ew." He looked up, eyes frenzied with panic. "Get it out of her! Get it out!"

"Woah woah woah," Bruce said, returning to the microscope. "What are you talking about? I already checked that slide."

Bruce looked into the microscope, examined the plate for less than five seconds, and looked back at Tony with a very unimpressed expression.

"Those are her blood cells. Multiplying."

"Oh. Huh." Tony cleared his throat. "In that case, uh, keep 'em in there."

At the end of all his tests, Bruce returned to Jessica and Natasha with a clipboard in his hands and Tony on his heels. He informed them all, "Well, it's not just the flu."

Three faces blanched.

Bruce continued, "But it's not poison either. Natasha was right about that."

This seemed to relax the others, but not by much.

"So." Tony swallowed. "What is it, doc?"

Bruce smiled, and from that moment, they knew they were safe. "Aseptic meningitis. Very unpleasant, but perfectly treatable."

Tony was just about ready to sink into the floor with relief. He put an arm around Bruce's shoulders, exhaling with relief. "Phew. Awesome."

"Awesome?" Jessica repeated.

"Awesome, I mean, that you're not dying," Tony explained. "Not that I ever thought you were dying, but…you know. Can't be too sure."

Jessica shook her head, having to suppress a laugh so as not to set her throat back on fire. "Right."

"The good part is that we caught it early," Bruce went on. "Too much longer without antibiotics and steroids and Jess may have ended up needing oxygen therapy."

"Are you sure?" Tony pressed. "We could take her to he hospital, just to be sure."

"How long have you been feeling sick?" Natasha asked Jess, her mind following the same path - better safe than sorry.

"Guys." Jessica smiled. "I'm okay. Lay the steroids and antibiotics on me and I'll be back to my non-puking, able-bodied self in no time."

"Mm." Natasha smirked, tucking some loose hair behind Jessica's ear. "I like the sound of that."

Jessica blushed and smiled wider, but Tony and Bruce were not having it. They both pulled uncomfortable expressions, turning away and shielding their eyes even though nothing had actually physically happened between the women in front of them.

"Jess," Tony whined, "what have we discussed about the zero sexy action around father rule?"

"Sentiment seconded," Bruce added.

Nat and Jess just rolled their eyes, still holding hands, watching each other in silent laughter.


	3. Tony finds out his daughter self-harms

TONY FINDS OUT HIS DAUGHTER SELF-HARMS

 **MAJOR TRIGGERS OH MY GOSH BE WARNED.**

Jessica gave it a week. Her failure to fix the bug in her newest anti-gravity contraption had her up for hours on end, hardly even taking time out to pee. She was sure that if she just poured enough time into it, enough effort, she'd get there. Or she'd fry her brain trying.

But the days passed, and she didn't seem to be getting any closer. She couldn't hold back the swarm of voices rising in her head - voices that were always there, but tended to lurk in the background - telling her everything she couldn't help but believe about herself.

 _You're an idiot._

 _You're a failure._

 _You're letting down the team._

 _You're an embarrassment to the Stark family name._

 _You are worthless._

 _Worthless._

 _Worthless._

"Hey Jess?" A faraway voice. "You okay, kiddo?"

Jessica suddenly realized she had closed her eyes, hunched over the monitor. She blinked.

Bruce was staring at her from his work corner, concern etched into his forehead. He asked again, "You okay?"

"Yeah." Jessica forced herself to stretch her back, wincing at the cracking vertebrae. "Totally."

He examined her a moment. "When's the last time you got some decent shut-eye?"

She scoffed. "I'll sleep when I get this done."

"It can wait until morning."

"Morning?" Jessica checked her watch, only to realize it was steadily creeping toward midnight. God, she really had been working here for hours. "Damn."

"You need to sleep, Jess," Bruce said softly. "It's not good for you to be spending so much time down here."

Jessica shrugged. "Dad doesn't mind."

"Tony doesn't mind cause he knows you're safe down here. Not to mention under surveillance."

"By who, JARVIS? I can override JARVIS if I really want to."

"I meant by me."

Jessica arched an eyebrow. "Babysitting me now, are you?"

"Not…exactly." Bruce laughed. Then he took on a more serious tone. "But I know when stuff isn't right with you. And all this time in the lab, I can see it taking its toll. You know I haven't actually seen you leave this place in five days? Can't blame me for feeling a little concerned."

Jessica couldn't help the surge of heat that flared up in her - not directed towards Bruce, but towards herself. Another algorithm failing on her desktop, she slammed a fist against the desk and cursed. " _Fuck_!"

Bruce did a double take. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong," Jessica ground out, standing up from her chair, "is I'm a shitty scientist who can't do anything right. That's what's wrong." She huffed. "I'm gonna take a shower. Clear my head. Night."

She stormed out, feeling vaguely guilty and embarrassed for her outburst, but unable to hold onto that for long before all the other crap flooded back in: the self hate, frustration, disappointment, _worthless, worthless, worthless._ There was no getting away from it. Or maybe there was, if only temporarily.

Jessica locked herself in her bathroom. She paced the tiled room for a few seconds, dragging her hands through her loose braid until random strings of curls broke free from their binding, breathing hard. Couldn't do anything right. Couldn't do anything good enough. Her whole body ached, all the way to the caves of her lungs and the pit of her stomach, with that pressing feeling of _fuck, I hate myself_.

She knew what she had to do.

She took a razor - not to her wrist, where they might see it, but to her stomach. The cuts started fast and urgent, but turned into slow and sensual strokes. Dragging out the pain. But she must've gone too deep, or deeper than she usually let herself, because within minutes she noticed her head had taken on a certain lightness and her appendages had gone numb.

"Huh," she muttered to herself. Not afraid, but curious. Was she going to pass out? Sure felt like it.

Distantly, she heard a disembodied voice. JARVIS. " _Miss Stark, your vital signs are troubling. Shall I send for help_?"

"Mm," was all she managed to return, slowly sinking to the floor. If she were more lucid she'd probably say _FUCK no!_ But alas, she was nearing unconsciousness, and the concept of consequences was out of her grasp.

The closest bedroom to Jessica's being that belonging to Steve Rogers, JARVIS thought to alert him first.

Steve was sitting on his bed rifling through a book, about to turn out the light, when he heard Tony's computing system address him.

" _Mr Rogers, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'm afraid your assistance may be required_."

Steve frowned. He put down the book. "What's up, JARVIS?"

" _It's Jessica, sir. She is need of urgent medical care_."

Steve shot up. "What? Where? _Where_ , JARVIS?"

" _In her bedroom's adjoining bathroom. She seems to_ _be_ -"

Steve was gone before JARVIS could finish his sentence. He bolted for Jess's bedroom, bursting through the locked door with the brute force of his shoulder. Once he reached the bathroom door, realized it was also locked, he pounded on its surface with his fists.

"Jessica! _Jessica_!"

He pressed his ear against the wood, waiting for a response, but he didn't hear anything. His stomach dropped.

Perhaps pointlessly, Steve shouted, "Stand back, I'm gonna break down the door!"

While Steve slammed himself into yet another door, JARVIS got to work alerting other Avengers. He started with Tony, patching through his mobile phone. The billionaire philanthropist was out at a function, surrounded by a horde of journalists and potential business associates, idly sipping on a glass of champagne. He stepped away from the group at the URGENT: CODE RED notice on his phone.

"This better be good, J."

" _I'm afraid not, sir. Your daughter has been badly injured. Captain Rogers is with her now, but she desperately needs to see a doctor._ "

Tony almost forgot how to breathe. "Jessica? What? What's wrong with her?"

" _The primary concern at this time is blood loss. She is more than likely in need of stitches."_

 _"Stitches_?!" Tony was already exiting the premise. He slid into his sports car. "I'm on my way. You keep her going until I get there, you hear me? Tell her I'm coming."

" _Of course_."

He slammed down on the accelerator, his heart racing even faster than the car. "Who did this, huh? What miserable son of a bitch am I gonna have to kill tonight?"

" _I believe the wounds are self-inflicted, sir."_

"Self-in…. _what_?"

" _Please hurry._ "

Tony gripped the steering wheel. "I'm coming. You tell my baby I'll be there fast as I can."

Meanwhile, Steve dropped to his knees next to Jessica's slumped and bleeding form. Seeing the crimson river snaking its way down her waist and dripping to the floor, he sucked up a breath. Then his military instincts kicked in, guiding him to the towel he used to put pressure on her wounds. Slow the blood flow. Oh God, she was really bleeding. She must've managed to hit a major vein in her stomach. What the hell was she doing with a blade to her stomach?

Seeing her eyelids flutter and her lenses go glossy, Steve put a hand on the side of Jessica's face. Patted her cheek. "Stay with me, Jess. Keep those eyes open."

"I'm sorry," she wheezed out. Her head rolled to one side, but Steve picked it back up. "I…I didn't mean to…"

"You're gonna be okay," he promised her, not knowing if the words were true. "Just keep those breaths coming, doll. I've got you."

He positioned Jessica's limp body in his arms, ready to lift her and rush her to the med bay, but stopped himself. Was moving her a good idea right now?

"JARVIS," he said, "call Bruce, get him up here."

" _Calling Dr Banner now."_

Until Bruce got there, Steve reluctantly decided to stay put. He couldn't be sure what was best for Jessica right now. He continued patting her cheeks, smoothing back her curls, putting pressure to her stomach, and tried to keep her talking.

"What happened, Jess? Why would you do something like this?"

"I didn't mean…" she tried to swallow, but her mouth couldn't seem to muster enough saliva. "To die. I just…"

"Just what?"

"So much hate," she whispered.

Steve frowned, dabbing at the cold sweat on her forehead. "I don't understand, Jessie. Who hates you?"

"Worthless…" she breathed out, then coughed. Her head rolled again. "Worthless."

The pieces started to fall together in Steve's head like a slow-motion film. His entire chest seized at the implications of Jessica's limited speech - that she did this to herself, that she hated herself so much she had to rip herself apart - and he held her tighter. She was so small and frail compared to him, like a child cradled in his arms.

"I've got you, doll," he said, trying not to let his voice shake. "I've got you."

"Dad," she moaned, faintly. "Where's Dad?"

"I'm not sure," Steve confessed, "but he'll be here. Isn't that right, JARVIS?"

" _I've already contacted Mr Stark."_

It was at that moment that Bruce Banner appeared in the broken doorframe, out of breath and eyes wild with panic. "What's going -" At the sight of Jessica, he gasped. "Jessie."

"I wasn't sure whether or not to move her," Steve explained hurriedly. "She's losing a hell of a lot of blood. Fast."

Struggling to keep his heart beat level, to keep the Other Guy in check, Bruce took a deep breath. "Take her to the bed. I'll keep pressure on the wounds while you run to the med bay - grab my equipment."

Steve nodded, rising to his feet with Jessica still in his arms. "Yes, sir." Ever the perfect soldier. As tenderly as he could manage with the stress surging through his bloodstream, Steve lay Jessica on her bed. He smoothed her hair back a last time and squeezed her hand before taking off at top speed.

Bruce pulled back the towel to get a quick look at the injuries and withheld a hiss between his teeth. He dropped the towel back and pressed down as hard as he could without hurting her even more.

"Hey, eyes open, Jessie." Bruce commanded. "Keep 'em open. Can you do that for me?"

Jessica groaned, but didn't say anything.

"Dammit," Bruce muttered, watching the last tendrils of colour drain from her cheeks. "Jessica!"

"What's going on?" demanded a new deep voice. "The man in the walls said Jessica needed our help!"

Clint came in behind Thor, both men alert. They caught sight of Jessica and their faces dropped.

"Shit," Clint snapped.

"Gods," Thor gasped. He hurried to Jessica's beside, Clint in tow. "What happened? Who did this? Their suffering will know no bounds!"

"Not now, Thor," Bruce snapped. He put his ear to Jessica's purple lips and pulled back with a stern expression. "She's not breathing."

"CPR," Clint declared, getting straight to action. Bruce stopped him.

"No, you call 911. Thor, keep pressure on her wounds. I've got this part."

The doctor commenced CPR; thirty compressions followed by two deep breaths. Hovering not far away, Clint paced the bedroom on the phone with a 911 operator. Thor positioned himself on the side of Jessica's bed and wrapped his hands over her waist. The towels were all but drenched in blood; squelching and hot under his palms. Unsurprisingly, Thor had seen a lot of injuries on the battle field, but the panic he experienced now was something he had never endured before. His head swirled manically. _Who did this? I'll kill them. I'll_ slaughter _them. I'll rip them apart piece by bloody piece._

"Paramedics are already headed over," Clint informed the group. "JARVIS must've called." He watched Bruce keep pumping at Jessica's chest and had to remember to stay calm. He was normally so good at it - why was this time different?

Steve barged back into the room, carrying a case bursting with medical supplies. "I wasn't sure what exactly you'd need, so I brought a bit of everything." Then he saw Bruce hunched over Jessica's slack body, rhythmically beating at her chest. Every inch of his flesh went cold. "What's going on? _What happened_?"

"She stopped breathing," Clint explained, his voice much steadier than he thought it'd be.

"Steve," Bruce ground out, still going at it, "get me the defib."

Steve scowled. "The what?"

Clint was already moving. He snatched the full case out of Steve's hands and ripped it open, rummaging through until he pulled out a small metal contraption connected by wires to two pads. Without needing instruction, he got under Bruce's hands and ripped Jessica's shirt apart, exposing her chest.

The entire room had to fight the instinct to look away. Not that Jessica wasn't a beautiful twenty-one year old woman in nothing but her bra and underwear, but it wasn't exactly comfortable to see someone they considered a younger sister or daughter without her clothes on. Especially while she bled to death from gnarly gashes across her stomach.

"Hey," Steve snapped; an instinct.

"Must you jeopardize her dignity?" Thor added.

The others ignored them. Bruce quickly resorted to his more-or-less objective medical persona. He got out of the way so Clint could stick the defibrillation pads on Jessica's chest. They charged up the machine, made sure Jessica was ready and the space was safe, and shared a stern look.

"Clear," Clint said.

Bruce sent the first electrical pulse into Jessica's heart. They waited a moment. Nothing.

"Clear," Clint said, again.

They sent the second electrical pulse through.

" _Agh_." Bruce couldn't help the frustrated growl that came out when there was still no response.

"What is this mysterious machine?" Thor demanded. "What is its purpose here?"

"It sends electric volts to Jessica's heart," Bruce told him. "Shocks it into beating again."

"Electricity?" Thor stepped forward. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Before they could stop him, Thor placed his hand in the centre of Jessica's chest. A bolt of lightening speared her body out of nowhere, making her limbs quake and her back arch.

"Thor - enough! Enough!" Bruce yelled.

Thor retracted his hand, the room still buzzing with energy. Bruce, Steve and Clint had to blink heavily just to get their sight back to normal, but once they could see, they noticed the angry raw markings across Jessica's torso. Injury by lightening bolt. Only happened to one in seven hundred thousand people, unless you happened to be friends with the god of thunder.

"Look what you did!" Bruce grabbed Thor by his shirt, as though he could threaten the god while he was in his non-hulked-out state. "She's only _human,_ Thor! Look what you did to her!"

"Doc." Clint had his ear to Jessica's mouth. "She's breathing again."

Slowly processing those words, Bruce eventually let go of Thor. He checked Jessica's breathing for himself, and his shoulders slumped with relief.

Taking Bruce's reaction as confirmation of Jessica still being alive, Steve let out a huge breath. "Thank God."

That was when Tony Stark finally made it onto the scene, storming into the bedroom to find his daughter. He was followed by an army of paramedics.

"Jessica," Tony called. "Jessie!"

Steve, Bruce and Clint stepped aside, just enough for Tony to get a glimpse of his daughter. Although breathing now, she hadn't regained consciousness, and the bleeding was yet to stop. Tony's stomach dropped all the way into his toes. He put a hand to his mouth, maybe to stop himself from screaming, and stumbled the rest of the way to Jessica's bed. He cupped his daughter by the face.

"Baby, what did you do?" He couldn't help the tremble in his voice. He tried to take a breath and it got stuck in his throat. His eyes glimmered. "What did you do?"

"Excuse me, sir." The paramedics tried to get past Tony to lift Jessica onto a stretcher. "We need to get her to the hospital."

But at her father's words, his almost-tears, Jessica finally stirred again. Eyelids half-closed, she murmured, "Dad?"

"Yeah, baby." Tony kissed her clammy forehead, holding her as tightly as he could. "I'm here. I'm here."

"Sir," the paramedics pressed. "We need to move her, now."

Reluctantly, Tony pulled away, just far enough for them to lift Jessica onto the stretcher.

"I'm sorry," Jessica wheezed. From the fraction of her eyes that were open, tears dribbled out. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The paramedics hoisted her away, rushing her to the ambulance outside. Even as they moved they were sticking stuff into her skin. Getting fluids in her. Asking for her blood type. Tony was unable to answer any of their questions. He just scrambled after them, holding Jessica's cold hand, telling her he was still there, that he wasn't going anywhere, that he loved her, that she had to hang on. He couldn't live without her. Bruce ended up being the one to give the paramedics the details they needed, managing to keep it together just long enough to make sure Jess was safe.

Needless to say, getting the Avengers to separate from their favourite little Stark was something of a challenge once they made it to the hospital.

"Mr Stark, you're going to have to give the doctors room to work. Your daughter is in good hands."

"Let me tell you exactly how this is gonna go down," Tony was fuming. "Either you let me in to be with my daughter right now, or you get ready to face the biggest Goddamn lawsuit this hospital has ever seen. I will break this institution down doctor by stupid doctor if I have to. Each and every professional here, from the surgeons to the freaking janitors, will be lucky to get a job at MacDonalds after I'm through with you, you understand? Hey, are you listening to me?"

Clint and Steve had to haul Tony away before the staff could call for security. They all wanted to be there with Jessica right now, but the doctors were right. They'd work better without the patient's family freaking out around them.

And so they waited. They never managed to get Tony into one of the chairs in the waiting room, but he resorted to pacing across the space, rubbing his temples, glaring at the floor and cursing under his breath.

Bruce, still struggling to keep the inner monster at bay, gripped on the armrests of his chair. Trying to distract himself, he leaned over to Clint and asked, "Have you spoken to Natasha?"

Clint pursed his lips. "She's in the middle of a mission. I didn't want to distract her."

"She needs to know, Clint."

The archer shook his head. "If anything has the power to mess with her head, it's Jessica. Telling her would risk Natasha getting hurt out in the field, and then we have two hospital patients on our hands."

"Then tell her to come home. Jessica needs her here, too."

After a couple moment's consideration, Clint grudgingly agreed. He stood up and left the room to make the call.

Once he was gone, Thor approached Bruce. His face was grave.

"I apologize for startling you earlier, with the lightening," he told Bruce. "I assure you, once Jessica returns to us, I will have her scars properly treated. She'll be good as new."

Bruce nodded. "Thank you, Thor. And I'm sorry for snapping at you. It may have been…" he struggled to recall the word, " _startling_ , but it was the right call."

The Avengers waited another two hours before the news that Jessica would be okay reached them. She'd be in hospital for another couple of weeks (though in his head, Tony had already decided he would move her to the med bay in the Avengers Tower) because of the severe blood loss, and also to evaluate her mental stability, but she should make a full recovery.

***Two weeks later***

"Ah-ah-ah!" Tony snapped, catching Natasha and Jessica share a kiss in the med bay at the Avengers Tower. He stormed in. "None of that on my watch. You," he jabbed a finger at Jessica, "are still healing. You can play kissy-face with your assassin lady lover in another couple weeks. If you're lucky."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "It was just a kiss."

"And actually, I'm a retired assassin," Natasha corrected. "Sort of."

Though the parental chiding wasn't ideal, Jessica was thankful for its resurgence. Things hadn't been quite right since she left the hospital, with any of the Avengers, but with her dad most of all. Possibly because he didn't trust her like he used to, or see her the same way. She hadn't been honest with him, in his defence. The depression and anxiety wasn't exactly a secret, but the cutting wasn't something she'd ever brought up. Too embarrassed. Ashamed. Scared. Each of the Avengers had had a quiet chat with her after the incident. All offering their support.

"You know I'm always here for you, as a doctor and a friend," Bruce told her.

"We all care about you, Jessie," Steve said, "you know that, right? We're family."

"Not used to getting a scare like that," Clint confessed. "You're too valuable for us to lose."

"You are forever under my protection, young Stark," Thor declared, "do not forget it."

"Jessica, you're perfect. In every way," from Natasha. "Don't let anyone tell you different - not even yourself."

And then came the talk with Tony. Her dad.

He had slipped into the med bay at the end of her first week of recovery. JARVIS, who had been under strict orders to monitor the room and Jessica's vitals every second of every day, informed him that Jessica wasn't getting much sleep. As it happened, neither was he. So he went to see her.

He sat himself on the end of her bed. "Hey, you."

Jessica mustered a smile. "Hi Dad."

"Can't sleep?"

She shook her head. "Apparently not."

He sighed. "Yeah, been there." After a moment's silence, they both started to speak at the same time. They each stopped at the sound of the other.

Jessica chuckled. "You go first."

"Alright. Well…" Tony rubbed his forehead, finding it hard to make eye contact. Worried if he saw his daughter's face, still pale and hollow, it might make him tear up. "I just wanted to let you know that…I love you. So much. You are by far the best thing that's ever happened to me. So to see you like…that…last week, it was…" He took a deep breath. "It was arguably the most terrifying moment in my entire life."

Jessica swallowed. "I'm really sorry."

He shook his head. "I'm not asking you to be sorry. You don't have to apologize. I can't imagine what kind of headspace you'd have to be in to do something like that to yourself, but I know you wouldn't have done it if you could've helped it. The human brain is a crazy, messed-up piece of machinery. God knows you can't always control your actions. After all," he gave a wry smile, "you are a Stark."

She returned the smile, equally tight. "That I am. But I'm still sorry. To have scared you. It was selfish. It was….it was -"

"Jessica, baby, you're sick. It's not your fault."

"It doesn't change what I did to you. To the others. I never meant to hurt anyone."

"Anyone but yourself," Tony's words slipped out before he could stop them.

Jessica looked away.

Tony groaned. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Jessica shrugged. "I mean, you're right."

"But why?" Tony couldn't stop himself from asking. "You're one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met. Talented, cool, kind, beautiful. Oh, not to mention a certified genius."

Jessica scoffed, the sound sour. "I certainly don't feel extraordinary."

"Jess." Tony took her hand. His palms were rough and warm. Sensing him waiting for her to meet his gaze, she finally looked up. Softly, he pressed, "Why do you hate yourself so much?"

She sighed, her breath shaking. "It's not really just one thing. It's everything. All you just said…I can't bring myself to believe it. Anything I'm even remotely good at, I can't shake the feeling that I'll never be good _enough._ No matter what I do, how hard I work, what resources I have at my disposal, it'll never be enough. _I'll_ never be enough. Nothing is ever perfect, and it's never gonna be perfect, and I…" she closed her eyes to keep the tears in. "I don't know how to live with that sometimes."

Tony waited a minute, taking these words in. Although it killed him inside - ripped his very heart to pieces - he knew it would do no good to fight with her over her feelings. All he could do was let her know she wasn't alone.

"Scooch," Tony said. Jessica moved far enough to give her father some room on the single bed, lying next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his shoulder, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

"You don't have to believe me," he told her, "but I'm gonna make myself crystal clear now anyway. You are perfect. To me, and to everyone else here. More than enough, in every facet of your being. I wouldn't have you any other way." He leaned his temple against her head.

"I love you, baby. And I'm going to help you get through all this crap, day after day, in any and every way you need me. You've got me."


	4. Tony's daughter gets scared

JESSICA GETS SCARED

 **TRIGGER WARNING: PANIC ATTACKS**

Natasha Romanoff had been on her mission for precisely three weeks now. A mission that was scheduled to have ended two days ago.

The super spy was late. She was _never_ late.

Jessica paced Natasha's room, where she had been waiting all night, hoping the woman would waltz in at any moment. She had her arms folded and her bottom lip caught between her teeth, nibbling furiously. She tasted blood, but the flavour had become so familiar in the past several hours that she just ignored it at this point.

 _Where are you?_

" _Miss Stark, your father is asking for you."_

"Tell him I'm out."

" _But you aren't out."_

"I know that. Tell him anyway."

 _"But that would be lying to Mr Stark. Protocol prevents me from lying to Mr -"_

"Override code 7742983," Jessica sighed; a nifty little piece of coding she'd inputed into JARVIS's system when she was fifteen. "Tell him. I'm. Out."

A pause. Then, " _Very well."_

About fifteen minutes later, Jessica still walking the length of Natasha's bedroom up and down with her folded arms, bloody lip and deep scowl, Tony Stark reached the the open door. He leaned against the doorframe, waiting for him to notice her. So caught up in her worrying, Jess didn't realize he was there until he cleared his throat.

Her head snapped sideways. When she saw it wasn't Natasha, her heart sunk. "Oh."

"Nice to see you too, sweet cheeks," Tony said, drifting into the room.

"How'd you even know I was here? I told JARVIS -"

"Override code 7742983. I know."

Jessica's eyebrows went up. "You know? The whole point of that code was to _keep_ you from knowing."

He shrugged. "I found it in the database last year, rewired the system so JARVIS would tell me if you tried to use it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "And give you my location, I presume?"

"Don't like when my little girl keeps things from me."

"Then I suggest you do a lot more digging into that database."

Tony took a moment to consider this, eyes narrowing on his daughter, trying to decide if she was telling the truth. Whether she was capable of actually hacking his Just A Rather Very Intelligent System was debatable for about a second before he came to the conclusion that yes, she absolutely could have hacked it. No one knew more about his technology than Jessie Stark. But that was a problem for another time.

He sat on the edge of Natasha's bed and patted a spot for Jessica to join him. When she declined, too edgy to relax, he sighed.

"We're missing you down in the lab."

Without even realizing it, Jessica started to pace again. "I'll make up for the time I've missed."

Tony waved his hand. "I don't care about that." He pursed his lips. "I care about my baby girl losing her mind worrying over something."

Jessica stopped pacing for half a second to glare at the ground before she got back to moving. "I'm just waiting."

"Cooping yourself up in here isn't going to bring her back any sooner, you know."

Thinking about Natasha; about her getting lost, or hurt, or killed, or a thousand other things that kept her from coming back home; Jessica couldn't take much more before she snapped. "I told you. I'm just waiting."

"Could wait with the rest of the team," Tony suggested. "I don't like the idea of you being alone right now."

"Enough," she spat out at last. "I'm waiting here for Natasha to come home and I'm _not leaving_ until she does. Not for anything."

"Baby…" Tony murmured, knowing he was on thin ice now, "we don't know how long that's gonna be."

She shook her head. "I don't care. She told me she'd be back, so she'll be back. She has to be." Trying to suck up some air, her breath caught, and she had to splutter it back out. "She has to be."

"She will be," Tony assured her. "Just give her time."

"How much time?" Jessica demanded, her voice finally breaking and tears gathering by the bucketload in her eyes. "How much time, Dad? I have to know - I mean I can't _not_ think about -she's never late - I can't stop seeing her - worrying about her - I-I can't not - I-I can't -"

At the first tear that sliced down the side of his daughter's face, Tony was off the bed. He wrapped Jessica up in his arms and pulled her tightly into his chest, tucking her head under his chin as he stroked her hair and rubbed her back. She shook against him with shallow, shuddering breaths, soaking his shirt through.

"Shh…" he whispered. "It's okay. It's all gonna be okay."

"I don't know -" Jessica sobbed, "h-how to live without her."

"She's coming back," Tony promised. "Trust me, baby. Okay? She's coming back."

"I-I can't -" she gasped out, "breathe. Can't - _breathe_."

At that, Tony pulled away. He examined his daughter, who was rapidly turning to dead weight in his arms as she got lightheaded from hyperventilating. He gripped her tightly by her forearms, trying to keep her stable.

 _Panic attack,_ he realized, _she's having a panic attack._

It wasn't the first time Tony had caught his daughter panicking like this. Once he recognized what was happening, his instincts kicked in. His training as a father over the past twenty-one years.

"Let's get you sitting down, huh?" he said, gently escorting her to the bed. Once she was safely seated, he got to his knees on the floor in front of her, and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Hey," he said, "hey. Everything is going to be okay. Nat will come home, just like she promised, and the rest of us are all gonna be here for you while we wait. You're not alone, baby girl. You've got us. You've got me."

Jessica met his eye, still hunched over and tugging down short, sharp breaths in between violent trembling, but couldn't hold his gaze for long before the panic started to take over again.

Tony squeezed her shoulders a little tighter. "I need you to breathe for me, Jessie. Can you do that?"

Jessica shook her head, unable to speak.

"That's okay, you're gonna try it with me. We'll do it together. It'll be fun. Here we go." Tony pulled back one hand to imitate the gesture for inhaling. "In for one, two, three, four, five. Hold it." He paused. "And back out for one, two, three, four, five. That's all there is to it. Let's try again."

He went through the same motions, waiting several times before Jessica could properly follow suit, smiling widely with her progress.

"That's awesome, Jessie. Keep at it, just like that."

They repeated the process a couple more times before Tony felt she was ready to move on.

"You're spiralling," he told her softly, "but it'll be over soon. Do me a favour, babe, put your head between your legs. Not a fan of those glossy eyes."

Without speaking, still not trusting her voice enough to do so, Jessica did as she was told. After a minute, her head seemed to clear up a little, enough to focus on regaining some sense of calm. Slowly, she sat up, eyes still puffy and cheeks still stained with tears, but okay. Breathing well enough. Aware of her surroundings again. Of her father sitting on the bed next to her and wrapping her under his arm. She closed her eyes, letting the final tears fall against his shirt, suddenly drained of energy.

"You did so good, baby," Tony whispered. He kissed her head. "So good."

Deciding she shouldn't be in Natasha's room for another minute, Tony gently helped Jessica to her feet and led her away. She didn't argue; too numb, too broken; and went along with Tony all the way into the communal area where the Avengers liked to hang out and talk, eat, watch T.V, and whatever else.

At Jessica and Tony's approach, Steve and Thor sprung up. Their eyes bulged when they saw Jessica, deflated and bleary-faced. Just as their mouths opened to speak and demand what was wrong, Tony held up his finger to quieten them. His expression was warning. The other men fell silent, their faces still contorted with concern.

Jessica allowed Tony to sit her down on one of the sofas while he ushered Steve and Thor into the hallway, knowing he'd have to placate their burning questions at some point.

"What afflicts our precious daughter of Stark?" Thor demanded.

"Is she okay?" asked Steve.

Tony sighed. His voice was low. "She's in a pretty bad spot right now, guys. Worried senseless about Natasha being late from this mission."

Thor and Steve's faces softened with sympathy. Steve glanced back into the communal space, his heart clenching at the poor sight of a terror-stricken Jessica, unmoving on the sofa.

"Oh, Jessie," Steve whispered.

"Look," Tony went on, "I just managed to steer her out of a panic attack, but she's clearly still shaken up, and scared out of her mind. I think it would really help her right now if we could all put in some extra time. Try to keep her spirits up."

"Absolutely," Thor said.

"Anything for Jess," Steve agreed.

Tony nodded. "Thanks. I'm gonna fix her a drink, calm her nerves. Steve, you're on blankets and snack duty. Thor." He smiled. "Give her the hug of her life. She needs it."

"Consider it done," Thor grinned. As he was about to bolt back to Jessica, Tony put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Just try not to break anything."

Thor nodded, recognizing Tony was only half-joking, and got to work. Rather than sitting next to her, he plucked Jessica off the sofa cushion and lifted her up against his chest so she could get her chin over his broad shoulder. He was too tall for her to get above collarbone-height most of the time.

Thor's arms snuggled around Jessica's form, squeezing hard. He kissed her cheeks, both of them twice, and nestled her against him like she weighed nothing more than a bundle of tissues.

"Thor," Jessica managed to get out, "can't breathe."

Thor stopped. "Are you panicking again, my dear?"

"No. You're holding me too tight."

"Ah." Immediately, Thor loosened his grip. "My apologies."

Carefully, he placed her back on her feet and smiled down at her. She tried to smile back, but her face was still sore from all the crying, and she could only keep it up for a second before it fell away again. Thor smoothed her hair out as much as he could, tucking it behind her ears.

"I have a suggestion," he told her, "if I may."

Jessica nodded.

"I'd like to braid these lovely brown locks for you. Perhaps steal a couple of flowers from Dr Banner's greenhouse. Just to ensure a fair maiden such as yourself is looking her finest when her lover returns."

At that, Jessica did find her smile, not caring how much it ached. "I'd like that too."

So, while Thor tidied Jessica's hair, entwining small white flowers in the braid, Steve returned with a mound of fluffy blankets under one arm and an assortment of candy and other snacks in the other.

"Fattening me up, Cap?" Jessica joked, making space for him on the sofa.

"That's the plan." He smiled, and gave her wiry arm a soft pinch. "You could certainly use it."

"Hey," Tony warned, emerging from the bar behind them with a couple bottles of spirits. "No body-shaming my daughter, Rogers."

The super-soldier held up his arms in surrender. "Just want my favourite Stark healthy."

While Thor cracked a couple anecdotes with his arm over Jessica's shoulders, and Steve held her hand, trying to be subtle about how often he examined her face for signs of another impending panic attack, Tony called up Bruce and Clint. Bruce was there in minutes. The archer, sweaty from training, took a quick shower, and arrived shortly after. The group of them - Tony, Steve, Thor, Clint, Bruce and Jessica - shared snacks and laughs while the T.V played some lighthearted comedy softly in the background.

Jessica couldn't deny that the presence of these Avengers helped her feel more at ease. If nothing else, she embraced the distraction. Moreover, she _wanted_ to feel okay. For them. She knew how hard they were all trying to cheer her up, from Thor's booming laughter to Steve squeezing her hand to Tony aiming pieces of popcorn in Clint's mouth and Bruce blushing at the occasional dirty joke. Jessica could hardly go two seconds without the cautious sideways glance in her direction, making sure she was still okay, for now.

She wasn't sure how exactly it happened. Maybe it was something on the T.V - a joke or statement or scene that somehow reminded her of Natasha - but out of nowhere Jessica could feel her breath catching again. She tried not to let on, keep the Avengers from worrying, but the group of perceptive and concerned men picked up on the spike in her anxiety pretty fast. Thor felt it in the tightening of her shoulders. Steve felt it in the withdrawal of her hand from his. Bruce felt it in the shortness of her breaths. Clint felt it in the sharp flicker of her eyes. And Tony - Tony felt it through all of that combined.

"My dear one." Thor lifted his arm a millimetre above her shoulders. "Have I hurt you?"

Jessica shook her head, but couldn't assemble the words to respond.

Working hard to keep his voice soft and smooth, Tony rose to his feet and instructed Thor, "Move away from her. Slowly."

"Of course," Thor obliged, all traces of mirth gone.

"It's okay," Jessica managed to say, but it came out as a wheeze.

"Shh, shh," Tony said, "don't try to speak." He looked to Steve. "Cap, you'd better back off too."

Steve tried to meet Jessica's eye, reluctant to leave her. In a low voice, he asked, "Jess, is that what you want?"

"Steve," Tony warned.

But Jessica shook her head again. "No," she gasped. She returned his look, struggling to discern his expression through the mist in her eyes. "Stay. Please."

Steve couldn't tell if his heart wanted to split in half or burst with fullness. He gripped the girl's hand tighter and gave her fingers a quick kiss. "I'm not going anywhere, doll."

Tentative but genuine, Bruce patted Jessica's thigh. "We're all here for you, Jess."

"You're gonna make this panic your bitch," Clint added.

Steve flashed him a smirk. "Language."

Somewhat surprised by how positively Jessica responded to the men's presence, but not at all disappointed, Tony took a seat on the sofa next to her. He gave his daughter a kiss on the temple and put his arm around her just as Thor had, but with the added familiarity of a father's embrace.

"You hear that, baby? Everything's gonna work out just fine."

She closed her eyes, doing her best to trap the tears. "Y-you don't know that."

"No," Steve admitted, "he doesn't. But we know Natasha loves you, and that she'll do anything to come back to you."

"We also know," Bruce put in, "that this feeling won't last forever. All you have to do is take a few nice deep breaths."

Jessica opened her mouth, presumably to say something like 'I can't do that', but she was so choked for breath the words didn't come.

"Doc's right, Jessie," Tony murmured. He pulled Jessica against his chest and rested her head against his shoulders. "Just gotta breathe for us."

"I know you can do that," Thor said with a grin. "If _I,_ the great oaf that I am, can remember how to breathe, you certainly can too."

"It's h-h-hard to breathe," Jessica stammered, "when I don't know if N-Natasha is doing the s-s-same."

"Hey," Clint said. "She is. Don't let yourself think for a second she isn't. Nat's a badass. She's gonna be okay."

"And so are you," Tony swept in. "If you can just try out that breathing."

"You don't have to do it for us," Steve told her. "You can do it for her. It's what she'd want you to do."

"God help the sorry soul who has to tell Natasha Romanoff we let Jessica pass out on our watch," Clint muttered.

"Hey," Bruce reached for Jessica again, seeing her eyes pop at Clint's comment. "Hey. Listen to me. You aren't going to pass out. I promise."

"Please, Jessie," Tony said, "just breathe. That's all I need you to do."

Seeing the group of male Avengers share a nod at Tony's words, Jessica forced the following sentence through her head, regardless of the whether or not she believed it: _Nat will be okay. Nat will be okay. Nat will be okay._ If they could all believe it, why couldn't she?

It took Jessica longer to calm down this time than it had earlier. She had a harder time swallowing the promises they made her and keeping them down long enough to steady her heart rate. By the time she had gotten back to breathing like a normal human being again, God only knew how long the other had waited. She sunk into the sofa, melting in Tony's embrace, and eventually even her hand going limp in Steve's as exhaustion won out and carried her into unconsciousness.

Sensing her breaths deepen, the male Avengers all shared an expression of relief.

They had a short debate regarding where Jessica would sleep that night, but decided to leave her on the sofa to reduce the risk of waking her. None of them knew when she had last slept, and figured that was priority number one. They left her with the blankets Steve had collected and the lights dimmed before quietly exiting the room to give her some peace.

When Thor and Clint asked if there was anything more they could do to help, Tony insisted he could take care of it from here. But that didn't stop Steve and Bruce from lingering in the doorway, both volunteering to 'take watch'.

Tony folded his arms. "Jessica's asleep on one of the top floors in the _Avengers Tower._ Why would you need to take watch?"

Steve and Bruce returned a meaningful glare.

Bruce asked, "So I guess that means you had no plans of keeping tabs on her?"

"That's different. I'm her dad."

"Yeah, well," Steve said, "we want to look out for her too. You're not the only one who worries."

Somewhat grudgingly, Tony eventually nodded. No harm in having a bit of back-up in case Jessica had another breakdown. All three of them knew it could happen, any time and any place, until Natasha Romanoff got home safe.


	5. Tony's daughter gets shot

JESSICA GETS SHOT

"Nat!" Jessica called out, standing in front of her bedroom mirror.

A flustered Captain America barged into the room, pink and tight in the face. "Nat's gone downstairs. What is it, what's wrong?"

Jessica sighed. "Nothing's wrong. I just don't know what to do with this stupid lip piercing."

"Lip piercing? I don't -" And then, as if he had only just noticed the sleek crimson gown Jessica was wearing, Steve's face dropped. "Wow."

Jessica caught his eye in the mirror, his slack jaw and popping eyes, and suddenly grew self conscious. She folded her arms against her chest, shoulders dropping like she wanted to curl up and out of sight.

"I didn't choose the dress. It was a gift from Dad a couple years ago."

Not noticing her discomfort, still starstruck, Steve wandered forward. He asked, "Why haven't I seen it before?"

She shrugged. "Haven't had the balls to ever actually wear it." She sighed. Shook her head. "Now I remember why."

Finally, Steve composed himself long enough to notice Jessica's coiled muscles and bulging tendons. She stopped fiddling with her lip piercing and turned her head over her shoulder. "Give me a hand with the zipper?"

"What? Jessie, no."

"Don't worry, Cap, I know it's no good. Just help me slip out and I'll find something else."

"You're kidding, right?" Steve examined her face, realized in fact she was _not_ joking, and did a double take. "Jessica. You look…. _stunning_. You're breath-taking."

Jessica went back to fiddling with her lip piercing, tugging and twisting it anxiously. "It doesn't fit."

"What are you talking about?" Steve laughed. "It fits perfectly. Everything about it is perfect."

"No." Jessica sighed. "I mean it doesn't, you know, _fit_ me. I'm not right. God, I shouldn't even be going to this thing tonight."

Steve frowned. "Why not?"

"Cause I already know what the reporters will say. _Tony Stark's daughter rocks up in flashy red dress to make up for her complete and utter inadequacy as his successor_." She looked away. "What a disappointment."

"Jess. Hey." Gently, he got her to look at him again. "You're not inadequate. You're not a disappointment. That's all crap newspapers say to make money. It's not true."

"It's true enough, or else people wouldn't buy the papers everyday. It's not all crap, Steve. I don't fit the Stark image - sexually ambiguous recluse girl with a hole in her lip." She went back to playing with the lip ring, more agitated now. "Some genius I am - I can't even get the damn thing out."

"Then stop trying," Steve said softly. He put a hand on her shoulder so she would turn to face him. "Screw what they want you to be. You're better than that person anyway. Be you." He smiled. "Because she's extraordinary. And she looks absolutely incredible tonight, red dress and hole in her lip and all."

Jessica smiled back, her figure relaxing for the first time in hours. "Really?"

Steve squeezed her shoulder. "Can't take my eyes off of you."

She blushed. "Shut up."

"Natasha is a lucky woman."

Jessica blushed even deeper, but grinned. "No, but she certainly _will_ be."

It was Steve's turn to blush. He cleared his throat. "If it's alright with you, ma'am, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

Jessica looped his arm through Steve's, staring at the floor to hide her lasting smile. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Captain."

**Time skip to later, at the event**

A mob of paparazzi closed in on Jessica and Tony as they exited a sleek black car and tried to enter the hotel hosting their function. Tony looped his arm around Jessica's and hung close behind a couple of bodyguards, forcing their way through the flashing cameras, clambering bodies and rising voices.

"Sexy dress, Jessica!"

"Hey Jessica, no date tonight?"

"No boyfriend yet, Jess?"

"Look here, Stark! Photo with your daughter!"

Tony growled under his breath, ducking his head to mutter in Jessica's ear, "Freaking animals."

"It's fine," Jessica whispered back. "Ignore them."

"You try ignoring a bunch of creeps harassing your daughter."

In a few minutes, the pair made it into the hotel, and Jessica released a sigh of relief. She'd be lying if she said being Tony Stark's daughter didn't have its setbacks. Thankfully, she had her friends to distract her within minutes of entering the premises. Having not seen her in her dress yet, the Avengers did nothing to conceal their astonishment.

Jessica greeted the group one by one, trying not to blush at their compliments. She gave Bruce a quick hug. When she pulled away, he put his hands on her arms to get a better look at her, and shook his head in disbelief.

"You're so grown up. I can hardly believe it." He smiled. "I guess Tony did well after all, to have raised such a beautiful young woman."

Next, she gave Clint a kiss on the cheek, and he told her, "Stunning, Jess."

Thor went straight for the bear hug he was so renowned for and laughed into her hair. "I believe it's safe to say you clean up very nicely, sweet maiden."

Steve, having already admired the dress, simply gave Jessica a knowing smile, as if to say _told you so._

And then it was Natasha's turn. Aware she had to keep a low profile when it came to her intimate relationship with Jess, she leaned in to gently kiss the woman's cheek and murmured, "You are spellbinding."

Jessica couldn't help but feel surprised at how well the night seemed to progress, at first. She mingled with the other guests, discussing the developments in their occupations and briefly summarizing her position in the Avengers Tower. Conversation came easily, being surrounded by such esteemed company with so many stories to tell. Slowly, Jessica felt herself ease into the ambiance, and the knots in her muscles loosened. In hindsight, she realized this decision to relax had been a mistake.

She was at the bar, having just ordered a martini, when something cool and solid poked into her side. Her blood ran cold. She swallowed.

Without turning around, she asked, "Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?"

"Cracking jokes," a deep, coarse male voice responded. She couldn't see his face, what with her back to him and fear gluing her in place. "Very Stark of you."

"Runs in the genes I guess," she told him, but she couldn't keep her words from shaking.

"Let me tell you what's gonna happen, Stark," the man continued. "I'm going to take you up those stairs, hold this gun to your head, and shoot you dead in front of all of the Avengers. Including your precious father, Iron Man."

Jessica's breath caught. "Why?"

"Let's just say I'd like to send a message."

Warning her what would happen if she screamed or tried to run, the man guided Jessica through the elegant crowd with his gun discreetly nestled into her back. As instructed, she made it up a flight of several stairs, gaining the height her attacker needed to get everyone's attention.

Under his breath, he muttered, "Showtime."

Coiling an arm tightly around Jessica to make sure she wouldn't bolt, the man fired a couple shots into the ceiling. Screams and gasps broke out across the venue.

"If I could have your attention please!" The attacker cried right in Jessica's ear. Maybe she would've flinched if she wasn't already trembling. Catching sight of her father's face in the audience, wide-eyed and drained of blood, she forced herself to hold her ground. He needed to stay calm, and he couldn't be calm if she broke down. She would not scream. She would not cry.

Apparently, her stony facade made little difference to Tony Stark. He reacted in the next split second, tearing through the crowd. His chest swelled, every atom of his body caught in a conflict between fire and ice. Rage and terror.

But Tony was still behind some of the other Avengers, who had already started to ascend the stairs. Steve Rogers was a mere matter of steps away from Jessica and her captor, Natasha not far behind, and Thor had already summoned Mjölnir. But the man tightened his grip on the gun and pressed it against Jessica's temple.

"Try it!" He warned. "Try it and she dies."

 _He's going to kill me anyway._ Jessica knew it. She glared at Steve, so close to her, not close enough, unable to speak without risk of getting her head blown off.

"You get your fucking hands off her," Tony snarled, climbing the steps against his better judgement. "Get your _fucking hands_ off her!"

But Tony must've gotten too close. Moved too fast. His damned Stark impulsiveness got the better of him, and he would pay the price.

 _BANG!_

Jessica doubled over, unable to hold back her cry - not from pain, but shock - as a bullet stabbed into her thigh. She went weak in her captor's arms, unable to keep her balance anymore, so that he had to support half of her weight. He struggled for a moment before tightening his grip on her, holding her in place. Jessica tried to stand up properly, her head swimming, with panic or blood loss she was uncertain. When she blinked hard, she could see the Avengers still there. Any traces of calm they possessed were gone.

"Jess!" Natasha's voice.

"Jessica!" Steve.

"I'll kill you!" Tony's roar. "I'll _fucking kill you_!"

"Dad," Jessica rasped, feeling the barrel of the gun press against her stomach. "Stop. I'm okay. Stop."

Bruce appeared behind Tony, putting a warning hand on the father's tense shoulder. Aware, just as Jessica was, that this man would only shoot her again if he acted rashly. But even Bruce's face was white as a sheet. He was doing everything in his power to steady his breathing even though his heart raced a hundred miles an hour. Turning green would do nothing to help this situation.

Either Jessica's words or Bruce's presence knocked a bit of sense into Tony. Practically quivering with the effort of standing still, Tony froze in place and locked a homicidal glare on the man that had just shot his daughter. He didn't speak, aware that if he tried he'd only spew profanities.

So Steve held his hands out, a gesture of peace, and said in a low voice, "Whatever you want, there are other ways to get it. Just let her go."

The man clucked his tongue. Even this sound seemed distant, as Jessica felt herself drifting away. The only sensation that seemed to keep her conscious was pain.

"Afraid I can't do that."

" _What do you want_?" Natasha demanded.

Perhaps a lapse in judgement due to blood loss, or perhaps a recession into desperation, Jessica blurted out, "You can't negotiate with him, he just wants to k––"

The man tightened his grip on Jessica even more, cutting her breath off at the throat. Her gasp got caught on the way down, struggling to make its way into her lungs. She managed to get in enough air - _just_ enough - to keep breathing, more or less, but couldn't keep herself from spluttering.

"Stop!" Tony shouted. "She can't breathe!"

Steve did his best to meet Jessica's eye, his gut turning at the netted red veins in her glassy eyes. "We're gonna get you out of this, Jessie. Stay with me."

They didn't know. They didn't know. She had to tell them. "He's––" she wheezed, the words hardly coming out. "Gonna––kill––me."

"Like hell he is," Tony growled. Bruce had to hold him back again, this time with Clint's help.

But what were the Avengers to do? They were at a public function. No weapons. No gadgets. No armour. They knew it, and so did Jessica. This man would kill her. It'd only take a moment, and then she'd be gone. She couldn't kick. She couldn't scream. She couldn't run. The way she saw it, there was only one option left if she had any hopes for survival, and even that was dodgy.

Realizing she had no other choice, Jessica parted her jaw, clamped her teeth on the man's forearm, and bit down. _Hard._

"Agh!" His grip faltered. Loosened, just long enough for Jessica to slip out of his arms and sink to the stairs. She had not taken into account said stairs being absolutely covered in blood - _her_ blood - and consequently didn't know how to stop herself as she slid down, one painful step at a time.

 _BANG!_

Another blast of pain, but this one lesser, as the bullet grazed her shoulder. The man had lost his aim, slipping on the same blood, and only got out the one shot before Captain America tackled him against the stairs. He snatched the gun and emptied its contents while Natasha straddled the guy, throwing punch after punch against his face.

It must have been Tony, then, that broke Jessica's tumble down the stairs. He scooped her up into his arms, breathing hard.

"Jess. Jessie. Can you hear me?"

"I'm okay, dad," she whispered.

"You were shot," Bruce reminded her, trying to get a look at her punctured thigh.

"I'll be okay," she rephrased.

Tony readjusted his hold on her, trying to straighten out her injured leg, but the movement agitated the shoulder wound. She hissed.

"Sorry," Tony said. "Sorry, baby."

Steve approached the two men, nudging his way through the dumbfounded group of guests at the event, who had been unable to do much more than gasp and shriek in the preceding crisis. He stopped at Jessica's side, frantically scanning her whole body.

"Jessica - are you okay?" He looked at the other men. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"What did you do with the asshole?" Tony demanded.

"Nat's with him." Steve glanced back, seeing Natasha still beating Jessica's attacker to a bloody pulp on the stairs. "He's a dead man."

"No…" Tony growled, gently handing Jessica over to Steve. "But he will be."

Jessica didn't have the strength to argue or even whine at the pain of being handed over like a small child. Her vision seemed to pulsate, making everything appear too big one moment and too small the next. Tony had stormed off before anything else could be said, murder on his mind. Maybe Natasha would stop him. Maybe not. Killing the guy who hurt Jessica honestly wasn't the worst idea the Avengers had ever heard, damn the consequences.

Thor and Clint also approached Jessica, Steve and Bruce, both as frantic as the other.

"Ambulance!" Bruce shouted. "Someone call for an ambulance."

Someone else was already ahead of them. At the first gunshot, a couple of the guests dialled 911, and the paramedics showed up five minutes later. Bruce loaded Jessica onto a stretcher and followed her into the ambulance. Steve tried to come in after him, but the paramedics drew the line at one extra passenger. Tony probably would've had a lot more to say about that, if he weren't still occupied beating the holy hell out of someone. Only when the ambulance had left the premises did Tony decide to return to his daughter.

The Avengers regrouped at the hospital, waiting outside while Jessica got some blood transplanted and stitched up. The doctors promised them she'd recover in due time, but in the meantime, she'd experience a lot of discomfort, and would probably need crutches. The important thing was that she'd survive.

After about an hour of waiting, the Avengers met Jessica in her private hospital room, bearing chocolates and flowers. They were all still in their party clothes, dressed up in suits and ties and gowns (in Natasha's case), while Jessica had been stripped and stuck in a hospital gown. Her make-up was a mess, her eyes were tired, and she was nearly transparent in colour, but she was alive. She smiled at their entrance.

"Jessica," Tony breathed out his relief, nearly collapsing at her bedside as he grasped for her cold, thin hands. "Thank God."

"How are you feeling?" Demanded Steve. "Are you okay?"

"Do you need anything?" Bruce added. "More morphine?"

Jessica shook her head. "I'm okay, but thanks. They did a good job cleaning me up."

Tony held Jessica's hand tighter, using his other hand to stroke some of the hair off her face. "Are you sure? You can have anything you want. Anything."

Jessica laughed, however weakly. "Chill, dad. I'm okay. Really."

Tony sighed, still trying to slow his heart rate. "You are never leaving the Tower again, you hear that? Never again."

"Gave us all a good fright," Thor agreed.

She didn't mean to, but the stress of the day combined with her remaining pain and increasing exhaustion made her groan and tip her head back into the pillow. "Can we not do this right now, please?"

"You're still in pain," Tony realized. He leapt for the IV bag and started to fiddle with it.

Bruce came to the rescue, taking over the administration of morphine. "Sorry, Jess," he murmured, "we were just all worried about you."

"Well." She mustered a smile. "Thank you."

"I'm so sorry for what happened to you," Steve said. "That guy was nuts."

"Yeah." Natasha folded her arms. "Nuts for thinking he wouldn't get his ass kicked for touching my girl."

Clint scoffed. "Safe to say he won't be coming near you again, Jessie."

"Or anyone else," Tony put in. He kissed Jessica's forehead. "No one hurts my little Jessie. Never, ever, ever again."


	6. Tony's daughter injured

JESSICA INJURED AFTER BEING SHOT

Jessica Stark knew she was a relatively active individual. Exercised enough to maintain her fitness, ran around the lab for the better part of most days, and got up to nasty things with the Black Widow between the sheets for the better part of most nights. Having said that, she still knew how to take a break. Or at least, she thought she did.

The truth was, hardly a week had passed since the shooting, and Jessica was bored out of her mind. She needed to get back to work. Get moving again. But, knowing her father, she'd hardly make it two steps before he steered her directly back to bed. Worried about her ripping her stitches, or falling down the stairs, or something else ridiculous, he kept tabs on her 24/7.

That was why, when he told her he would be at a conference during the day, Jessica finally saw her chance.

Dressed up in his formal suit and tie, Tony sat on the edge of Jessica's bed to say goodbye.

He tucked her hair back. "You gonna be okay without me for a few hours?"

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dad. I'll be completely fine."

"You'll call Nat when she's done training to help you get dressed?"

Jessica smirked. "And showered."

Tony paused. "On second thought, maybe I should skip this conference."

"No," Jessica blurted. "No, Dad. You should go. Please - I'll be totally fine.

By the frown on his face, Jessica judged her father was still uncertain. He asked, "Have you taken your painkillers?"

"Yup."

"But you ate breakfast first, right?"

"Of course."

"And took them down with water?"

"Why does that matter?"

"I don't want you to get acid reflux!"

Jessica groaned. "Dad, please, you're killing me with the smothering."

Tony shrugged. "You got shot." He squeezed her hand. "I think some smothering is in order."

She sighed. "I have a tower full of Avengers with me. Go to your meeting. I'm gonna be fine, I promise."

With a final hesitant look, Tony kissed his daughter's forehead and left for the conference. Especially since the shooting incident, a lot of partners to Stark Industries needed reassurance in the company's competency. Tony had no choice but to attend, injured daughter or not.

"You call me if you need me, okay? For anything. _Anything_."

Jessica nodded. She waited for JARVIS to announce Tony had left the building. At JARVIS's confirmation, she threw off her bedsheets. Unbeknownst to her father, she had already gotten dressed on her own, pulling on a fresh pair of track pants while he showered. Also unbeknownst to her father, Natasha would also be out all day with Fury. Now, Jessica held the reigns.

Hissing at the pain in her grazed shoulder, she carefully removed a baggy sweater and replaced it with a hoodie. She limped over to her closet - God forbid she ever actually brought herself to utilize the wheelchair Tony insisted on - and slid on a pair of casual sneakers. A couple more minutes for a bit of hair management and make-up and she was set, ready to face the day on her own for the first time in a week.

Scanning the corridor to make sure the coast was clear, Jessica limped softly towards the elevator. She had to get back down to the lab. Stimulate her brain. Otherwise she would go crazy for sure. How dangerous could that be anyway? Sitting at her desk in the lab. Tony had nothing to worry about.

Jessica did not count on, however, running into Bruce Banner, in the same lab. Normally he took Sundays off. She jumped at the sight of him, and quickly jabbed at the elevator buttons to avoid being seen.

But Bruce heard the doors open, and turned to see Jessica standing in the elevator - out of bed, leaning heavily on her good leg. His face dropped.

"Jess, what're you doing up? You were prescribed bed rest for––"

"Oh, no," Jessica fake-complained, finally getting the doors to close. "This isn't the bathroom!"

"Jess––!" Bruce warned, but he was too late. The elevator doors had closed, and Jessica was riding back upstairs.

She let go of a breath, resting against the back of the elevator. That was a close one.

When the doors opened again, she was in the main living area. Cautiously, Jessica wandered out, still heavily limping, and made her way into the kitchen. She'd kill for a soda. Tony and Bruce had been keeping them away from her since the incident, claiming soda had zero nutritional value and would not help to speed up the healing process. Jessica opened the fridge, rummaging for a Diet Coke. Her stomach dropped when she found it, right on the top shelf, just out of her reach.

Still basically balancing on one leg, Jessica stood on her toes and reached for the can. The second her fingers hooked around the cool metal surface, she lost her footing. Without the other leg stable enough to support her, down she went, hitting the kitchen tiles with a _smack_!

Sprawled out on the floor with a can of coke in her hand, Jessica sighed. "Damn."

Within a matter of seconds, she heard footsteps racing down the corridor into the kitchen. Either her fall had been loud enough to attract attention, or JARVIS had been a dick and told on her. More likely the latter.

"Jess?" It was Steve's voice. He scanned the space, unable to see her on the floor behind the kitchen bench. "Jessica?"

Jessica huffed. "Down here."

Steve rounded the kitchen counter to find Jessica flat on the tiles. She bit her lip when they made eye contact. "Hi."

"Jess," Steve breathed out his relief, dropping to his knees to help her back up. In his short burst of panic, he brushed right against her injured shoulder. Jessica snapped away, grimacing.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Are you hurt? Uh, more hurt?"

"I'm fine," she grunted.

"Come on, let's get you up."

Steve helped her back to her feet (or foot). He tried to guide her towards the sofa, but she pulled back.

"Jess," Steve said, "come on, we need to get you back in bed. Your dad is gonna have both our heads."

Jessica balled her fists. "If one more person tells me I need to go back to bed I'm gonna lose it."

"You're badly injured! What were you doing out of bed in the first place?"

Jessica sighed. "I just want things to be normal again. I'm ready to get back to work. I don't need to be babied anymore - I'm losing my mind."

"Well…" Steve held up his hands. "Tough. You don't get to decide how fast your body heals. As unfair as it may be, you're still out of action for another week or two."

"I can't sit around and do nothing," Jessica complained. "I don't care what the doctor says, or dad says, or Bruce says. I'm going back to work."

Diet Coke still in hand, Jessica made three uncomfortable steps toward the elevator. Steve moved to block her path. She glared up at him.

"What're you gonna do, Cap?"

"Jessie." His voice was softer now. "You need to rest. Heal. I'm just trying to keep you from getting hurt."

"I already got hurt," she muttered. "And I'm doing fine."

Of course, just as she said these words, Jessica noticed the searing hot sensation dribbling down the length of her injured leg. She froze. _Oh, crap._

Seeing her face change, Steve frowned. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Jessica swallowed, not daring to look down, knowing exactly what she'd find. "Dandy."

Gently, Steve picked up her chin, examining her face. "You sure? Look kind of pale suddenly."

"Mm-hm." Jessica gripped the kitchen counter to stop swaying, not wanting to fall over again. "Absolutely. Just think that, uh, maybe, it's possible, that I ripped my stitches?"

Steve's eyes popped. He looked down to confirm Jessica's worst fear; she'd ripped her stitches trying to get a stupid can of coke out of the fridge, and now she was bleeding quite profusely all over the kitchen tiles. Seeing her eyes gloss over and her grip on the counter loosen, Steve swooped in to hold her up by her waist.

"Hey," he said, gently but sternly. "Hey, try to focus. Eyes on me, okay?"

"I'm sorry," she slurred. "You were right, I was acting stupid. Maybe I should go back to bed now."

"Afraid not, doll." Steve lifted her up entirely, trying to hold her without agitating her shoulder or her leg. "It's off to the med bay for you."

The busted stitches gave off a sharp ache, and Jessica's blood felt like boiling water tipping down her skin. She ground her teeth, not wanting to act like a wimp, but suddenly in a great deal of pain. She gripped Steve's shirt and closed her eyes, trying to stay calm.

"Take a deep breath," Steve murmured. He stepped into the elevator with Jessica still in his arms. "We're gonna get you patched up, good as new."

"It hurts," Jessica hissed, "more than I expected."

"I know, doll." He kissed the top of her head. "Just take another deep breath. We'll get some painkillers into you." He lifted his head to address JARVIS. "Hey JARVIS, could you please call for Banner? Tell him Jess burst her stitches."

" _Yes, Mister America."_

Steve rolled his eyes. "I don't know Tony keeps insisting he call me that."

Jess snorted. "Because it sounds stupid."

"Can't argue with that logic."

Steve carried Jessica into the med bay and laid her down on one of the steel countertops. Seeing the dark burgundy colour that had sept through the leg of her track pants, Steve pursed his lips. "Ah."

"Ah what?" Jessica asked

Steve sucked his teeth. "You wouldn't happen to have another pair of pants on underneath those ones, would you?"

"What?' Jessica frowned. "Oh. No. Sorry."

Trying to come up with a solution that would involve Steve _not_ seeing Jessica in her underwear, he finally snatched a towel off one of the work benches and held it over Jessica's waist. "How's this?"

"Perfect," she said.

Though her vision had gone a little sloppy, Jessica managed to slide off her track pants while Steve held up a towel and looked away. Once she was done, she draped the towel over her waist, covering her lap. Steve finally got a chance to see her leg - her badly bleeding thigh - and had to resist a grimace.

"Fuck," Jessica muttered, "it's really bleeding."

"It's okay," Steve told her. "Banner will be here any second. Let's get a bit of pressure on it, huh?" He used the corner of the towel to apply pressure to the wound, but Jessica had begun to sway again.

"Uh, Cap…" she murmured, "pretty sure I'm gonna pass out."

Steve jumped to attention. He kept one hand pressed on Jessica's thigh and used the other to hold her up in case she collapsed, constantly readjusting every time her head rolled to the side. "Take it easy," he told her. "Deep breaths. Just take it easy. Banner's gonna stitch you up."

Her head rolled again. He picked it back up. "Stay with me, Jess. Just hang in there." Honestly, Steve wasn't sure if her passing out would be the worst thing in the world if she was in pain, but for all he knew it could cause bigger problems. They needed a doctor in the house.

As if on cue, Dr Bruce Banner burst into the med bay. He immediately saw Jessica on the steel table, propped up by Steve as she struggled to stay conscious, bleeding heavily out of her thigh. He made eye contact with Steve. At his arrival, Steve let out a breath of relief.

"Glad you made it, doc," he said. "Seems we have a bit of a crisis on our hands."

"'Crisis' is a strong word," Jessica got out.

"Dammit, Jess," Bruce said, "you worried me. I was looking everywhere for you."

Steve blinked. "You knew she was up?"

"Mm," Bruce affirmed unhappily, lifting the towel to get a look at Jessica's thigh. "She barged into the lab, presumably to get back to work, but got spooked when she saw me. Ran off."

"Only cause I knew you'd make me go back to bed," Jessica argued, though her voice was too weak to carry much conviction.

"What a crazy thought that would've been," Steve muttered. He looked up at Bruce. "Give me something to do, doc. She's fading fast - lost a lot of blood. Again."

"Uh, lie her down. Then elevate her legs - it'll help the blood flow."

Steve got to work, happy to have received orders. While he lowered Jess's upper body, Banner tried to clean the bloody wound long enough to get it stitched up again. She'd made an absolute mess of the last set of stitches. He'd have to start from scratch.

"What the hell did you do, Jess?" Bruce asked. "It's chaos down here."

"I was just trying to reach––ow!" Jessica's head shot up, her face tight with pain.

Steve, who had just tried to lift her legs, shrunk guiltily. "I'm sorry, doll, I know it hurts." He looked at Bruce again, helplessly. "Are you sure I can't just let her lie here? I don't want to hurt her."

Bruce sighed. "I know, but if we don't improve her circulation she might really pass out, and that's a slippery slope to needing to be resuscitated."

Steve set his jaw. "Slippery slope. Got it."

So he tried again, as gently as he could, lifting Jess's legs so her body was in a wide V shape. She bared her teeth to hold back any further cries of pain, but both men could discern the discomfort on her face. They shared an unhappy expression.

"Time for drugs yet, doc?" Steve pressed.

"I'll get them. Keep those legs up - do not let her pass out."

Jessica fought against heavy eyelids, sure if she didn't close them soon she'd be sick. What she could still see of the room - the bright lights, silver countertops and shiny equipment - was spinning. She tried to tell them she was losing it, but her tongue seemed disconnected from the rest of her mouth, and she wasn't sure what came out.

Whatever she said, it must've been enough to get across the message, as Steve leant over and looked down at her with urgency drawing creases in his brow. "Listen to me, Jessie. Listen to my voice. Hang on to that, okay? Don't go anywhere. Stay with me, right here. It'll all be over really soon."

Bruce administered the painkillers through a syringe, and to everyone's delight, Jessica's body sunk with relief. Her eyelids fluttered, now dizzy with the sudden euphoria of _not_ being in pain.

While she was still without physical sensation, Banner quickly got to work stitching Jessica's thigh back up. He did the stitches tighter, and closer together, with more in total, to prevent future mishaps. There were only so many times a person could lose a couple pints of blood in a week before trouble really started to set in (brain damage and muscle atrophy being a couple of particularly nasty examples).

"How's it looking?" Steve asked halfway through.

"Getting there," Bruce told him. "Jess, you still with us?"

"Mm…" she gurgled.

"Hey," Steve directed. "Eyes up here, doll. With me. Keep 'em open, okay?" He snuck a glance over at Bruce's stitching job and sighed. Lowly, he said, "Tony is gonna kill us."

Thankfully Bruce managed to finish his work before Jessica had passed out. The flood of blood finally stopped, leaving a sticky red aftermath over floors and tables and equipment. That was a problem for later. First and foremost: get Jessica stable. They moved her into a proper bed and hooked her up to an IV as well as a bag of B negative. It worked - her vitals returned mostly to normal within an hour and, finally, Bruce gave her the all-clear to fall asleep.

Steve and Bruce stood a couple feet away from the bed, hardly daring to let Jessica out of their sights in case she ran off again.

"That was a close call," Steve said.

"Too close," Bruce agreed. "She probably just doubled the time she's gonna be assigned bed rest for."

"I get it though," Steve told him. "Why she took the risk of getting up. Better to be doing something, even if that thing is ripping open your stitches, than be staring at the same spot on the wall all day long."

Bruce shook his head, more to himself than to anyone else. "I don't know if I'll ever stop worrying about that girl."

Steve shrugged. "She's precious. We only worry about the things that are."

At the end of the day, Tony returned to the tower, and headed straight for Jessica's room to see how she was doing. When he found no one in there, his stomach dropped.

"JARVIS," he called. "Where's Jess?"

" _In the med bay, sir."_

Tony's whole body jolted like he'd just been hit with an electric volt. "What? Why? Is she okay?"

" _She is stable."_

Tony raced up to the med bay to find his daughter. When he saw Steve and Bruce standing about two feet away from Jessica, out cold in a hospital bed, his face swelled with heat.

"What the hell," he hissed. "What happened?"

"She tore her stitches," Bruce explained. "I just patched them back up."

Tony approached Jessica in the bed, frantically checking for a pulse and feeling her forehead. He wasn't happy with the paleness of her face or the limpness of her figure. Once he had confirmed for himself that she was in fact stable, he turned back on Bruce and Steve.

"How'd it happen?" His glare narrowed. "Did someone let her out of bed?"

Bruce sighed. "No one 'let' her do anything. She just started to go stir-crazy."

"I found her, fallen over, in the kitchen," Steve added. "She ripped her stitches reaching for a soda in the fridge."

 _That_ , Tony could believe. He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "I wish I were more surprised." He looked at Jessica again, still unconscious, and shook his head. "She's gonna be okay though, right?"

"She'll pull through," Bruce assured him. "But it'll be another week on bedrest."

"Doubt she'll be crazy for that idea," Steve said.

"Too bad." Tony's face hardened. "This time, I'm not going anywhere. Jess doesn't leave my sight until she's healed up. I've had enough with these close calls."

Bruce pursed his lips, knowing he was treading on dangerous territory. "You know smothering her will just make it worse…"

"I'll take that chance over the possibility of Jessica ending up back in a hospital bed."

"She's an adult, Tony," Bruce insisted. "Give her some room to breathe."

"He might have a point," Steve put in. "Jess values her independence. I know she needs to be looked after, but we shouldn't take away her sense of self-sufficiency."

Tony put up his hand, signalling for them to stop. "Okay. Yeah. I get it. Just save the backseat parenting for another time, alright? I'd like to be alone with my daughter for a few minutes."

Sufficiently chastised, the other men backed off. They shared a knowing look before heading for the door.

"Tell JARVIS to let me know when she wakes up, okay?" Bruce said before he left. "So I can check on her."

Tony nodded. "Sure."

Once the men left, Tony frowned, thinking again of JARVIS. He looked up. "Hey J, how come you failed to mention Jess was out of bed earlier? I told you to keep me posted."

" _Apologies, sir. It seems Miss Stark managed to override your orders."_

Despite himself, Tony had to stifle a laugh. "Should've known."


	7. Tony's daughter drowns

JESSICA DROWNS

Jessica knew that if she was stuck in the lab for another minute, her head would explode. She needed to get out of there. Out of the lab, out of the tower, out of the city.

"Hey Dad." Jessica popped her head in on Tony Stark, who was in the kitchen, making a late breakfast smoothie. "Are you using your place in Long Beach this weekend?"

"Uh…" Tony poured his smoothie into a glass. "I don't think so. Why, you throwing a party?"

Jessica laughed. "Me. Throw a party. That'll be the day. I actually just wanted to get out of the city for a couple days."

Tony frowned. "Everything alright, sweetcheeks?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Just going a little stir-crazy is all."

"Fair enough. It's all yours. Just…" Tony pursed his lips. "Do your old man a favour and take some of the team with you. I've got a function tomorrow, so I won't be able to get there until Sunday."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "I don't need a babysitter, Dad."

"I know, I know. I'd just feel a lot better if you weren't there on your own."

Jessica folded her arms. "You do know that I'm twenty-one years of age."

"Yes." Tony sighed. "I am quite painfully aware. Humour me this once, alright? Take the team with you. Whoever you can round up."

After a moment of stony silence and pointed glaring, Jessica gave her own sigh. "Fine. I'll bring a couple babysitters. To make you feel better — considering how impotent you think I am on my own."

"Hey, Jessie, don't be like that. You know this has nothing to do with my trust in you. I just know how creepy people can be beyond these walls. Paparazzi in particular. It'd give me some peace in mind to know someone's got your back out there."

Jessica couldn't help it. She softened.

"Okay. I get it. Someone to watch my back."

"That's all I ask."

And with that conversation, Jessica got her trip to the beach she needed so desperately. Tagging along for the ride came Steve Rogers and Thor Odinson. The others had work to attend to in New York, or elsewhere, over the weekend.

Jessica got herself up early the next morning, threw on a swimming costume, grabbed her sunglasses and a towel, and headed for the beach. She didn't even make it to the back door before a big muscly arm blocked her path.

Jessica huffed. Sunglasses hanging halfway down her nose, she glared up at Steve. "Good morning, Captain."

Steve smiled. Even he wasn't in his daywear yet, still in a tank top and track pants from going to bed last night. "Jessica."

"Any particular reason you're keeping me from the beach?"

Without another word, Steve pulled a bottle of sunscreen out from behind his back. He arched an expectant eyebrow.

"Five bucks says you hadn't thought to rub any of this on yet."

Jessica scoffed. "You've got to be joking."

"Skin cancer is no joke, ma'am."

Knowing full well that she had no chance of going any further without lathering up, Jessica took the sunscreen and got to work. She coated her arms, legs, chest and stomach. When she got to her back, she had to give Steve a look.

"Help a girl out?"

Trying to disguise his discomfort at putting his hands on Jessica's body and failing, Steve tentatively took the sunscreen back and applied some to her back. He did the job from as far away as possible, hardly even daring to watch himself work.

Jessica laughed. "I won't bite, Captain."

"No," Steve muttered, "but your father might."

"Scared of my father, are you?"

"Of your father? No. Of Natasha? Yes."

Jessica considered this, and nodded. "Fair enough."

Assuming that would be the end of it, Jessica moved for the door when Steve had finished, only for him to hold her back by the wrist. She turned around, expression half expectant and half exasperated.

"Something else on your mind?"

Steve had to resist biting at the inside of his lip. "You going for a swim?"

Jessica took a moment to glance down at her bikini and the towel under her arm, making sure she had in fact put on the correct garments. She looked back up. "What gave me away?"

"Right." Steve cleared his throat. "Sorry. Stupid question. I was just, uh, kind of hoping you'd wait for me or Thor before you got out in the water. I've heard it can get a little rough out there."

Jessica smiled. "Thanks for the concern, Cap, but I can handle a couple waves. I wanted to get out there early — before it gets too crowded on the beach. Bikini plus paparazzi equals gross magazine headlines." She gave his hand a squeeze. "I'll be careful."

After another moment's hesitation, Steve finally nodded. "Alright. I'll meet you out there soon — want to get a quick workout done first." His glare sharpened. "No funny business while I'm gone. Deal?"

"Funny business? Steve, I'm just going swimming."

At that, Steve finally forced himself to take a deep breath. He shook his head, clearing it out, and felt his shoulders relax. "You're right. I'm sorry. You probably left New York to get _away_ from your father's incessant worrying."

Jessica shrugged. "I wouldn't call that the main reason."

"I'll back off. Sorry." He squeezed her hand in return. "Just want to make sure you're safe."

"I know you do." Jessica stood up on her toes to plant a kiss on Steve's cheek. "I'll see you in a bit. Have a good workout!"

She left before he could think of any other excuses to keep her in the house. Steve watched her go; skipping down the front steps and onto the sand in her cute little bikini, long brown curls swaying behind her. His heart swelled.

Taking a deep breath, Steve forced himself to look away. Jessica wasn't a child. She could look after herself. After all, the water didn't look so bad this morning. They didn't get any sharks in these parts. Everything would be okay.

He turned away from the beach, feeling the tiniest bit better, with no idea of how wrong he was.

Jessica didn't notice the sky greying with clouds until it was too late. She had swum far away from shore, where the waves couldn't knock her down, but the currents were stronger. And the rocks were bigger. Much bigger.

Struggling to pull away from a tightening rip, Jessica finally looked up at the sky. Her stomach dropped. She was no expert, but something about the darkening clouds and distant grumbling was particularly disconcerting. She needed to get back to shore. But, when she looked back at where she'd come from, her stomach only fell further, seeing just how far she had gone. The beach was deserted — the few early-morning swimmers and surfers must've decided to call it quits when they saw the storm rolling in. Jessica had been too absorbed in her freestyle and breaststroke to notice.

She was alone.

" _Oof_ ," Jessica grunted as the ocean yanked her directly against one of the rocks. She managed to block the impact with her hands, coral and oyster shells splitting the skin. She hissed.

But there wasn't a lot of time to react to that pain before another rip caught her and threw her into another rock. This time she was less fortunate. Pain blasted like lightening across the side of her head. The force of it made her feel immediately sick. Or maybe it was the hot, sticky sensation of blood dribbling down her temple that made her want to puke. She flapped her arms around, forcing herself to stay afloat, but her limbs seemed incapable of responding to her brain's commands. She had a hard time keeping her head above the surface. Within minutes she found herself swallowing gobs of ocean water. It was so disgusting she had to gag it back up, but that only resulted in more choking.

Still frantically flapping about, Jessica's vision started to cloud over. That hit to the head must've been even harder than she thought. It only occurred to when water had filled up half of her lungs that she was drowning. The ocean had taken over. She couldn't breathe.

Thanks to the pain of her burning chest, or thanks to the faintness of her head, Jessica didn't last much longer before sinking — succumbing — to the sea.

Steve had just gotten out of the shower when he caught sight of the storm, now in full force. His jaw went slack.

 _Oh, no._

Frantically wrapping himself up in a towel, Steve hurried to the balcony and glared out urgently for any sign of Jessica. She wasn't on the shore, but her belongings were still there. Phone. Sunglasses. Beach towel. He studied the ocean, watching for flailing arms or screaming voices. _Where was she_?

Steve yanked on a pair of trunks and barged into the living area. He found Thor at the kitchen bar, working on a box of pop-tarts.

"Thor!" Steve exclaimed, already out of breath with panic. He pointed out the window, at the storm. "Is this you?"

Thor followed Steve's gesture. He frowned. "I don't believe so. Does the weather ail you, Captain?"

"No, it's Jessica." Steve practically sprinted for the door. "Jessica's out there."

"Out…" It took Thor several moments before he realized what Steve was saying, at which point Steve was long gone. Thor leapt up. "Oh, gods!"

Steve was already halfway down the beach, desperately scanning the ocean.

"Jessie!" He cried. " _Jessica_!"

That was when he saw her — or, rather, saw her body — bobbing amidst a cluster of particularly chunky rocks. He recognized her by her hair, mangled and knotted by the waves on the water's surface. His chest flooded with ice.

Without another thought, Steve charged into the water. He dove in headfirst and swam faster than any other human would be capable of, forcing his way past the rips and currents and waves to get to Jessica. They were strong enough to hold him back by a couple minutes at least — no wonder they had done such a number on Jessica.

Finally, he caught up to her. She was face-down in the water, and completely unresponsive to his touch. When he managed to flip her over, he found her eyes closed and her lips completely blue. He smoothed some hair off her face and patted her cheek, hoping for a reaction.

"Jessica, can you hear me? Jessica, baby, talk to me."

She was unresponsive. Steve felt for a pulse. Almost non-existent.

"Stay with me Jessie, you're gonna be okay. Stay with me."

Struggling to keep Jessica's head above water, Steve took longer than he would've liked to get back to shore. He kept talking to Jessica the whole way, even with the knowledge that she more than likely couldn't hear anything he said.

"Hang in there," he said, "come on, doll, you're doing so good. Not much further."

A rip threatened to tug Jessica away, at which point Steve just held her tighter.

"I've got you," he asserted, to himself as much as to her.

Once it was shallow enough for Steve's feet to touch the sand, he slung Jessica into a bridal carry. He tore through the waves to shore, meeting a very stern-looking Thor on the beach. The men lowered Jessica to the ground, laying her out. That blue colour in her lips seemed to be spreading, leeching its way all the way into her fingertips. Thor felt for breath. He looked up at Steve, panic flickering in his eyes.

"She needs a healer. I shall summon one — don't move."

Thor tipped his head up to the skies, ready to summon Heimdall, when Steve put a hand on his arm.

"There's no time," the super soldier told him. "I have to get the water out of her lungs. Get her breathing."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

In response, Steve began to beat Jessica's chest: thirty steady compressions right on her sternum, forceful, but not enough to cause major damage. He tilted her head back and exhaled twice, deeply, against her mouth. God, she was cold.

Steve repeated this process, grunting out words of encouragement as he worked.

"Wake up, Jessie. Come on. Breathe."

It was all Thor could do to not stand up and pace the beach, punching rocks to smithereens. "Give me a task," he demanded, "I must _do_ something."

"Clear the skies," Steve said, never looking away from Jessica. "Get rid of this damn storm."

"Yes. Of course." Thor nodded eagerly, glad to have received instructions. He concentrated on the clouds, slowly parting them with his godly power to reveal the pale blue beneath.

Around the fourth set of compressions, Steve began to lose patience. He beat her chest harder, his hands more forceful than perhaps they should've been. In the frenzy, he heard the sickening crack of a rib. He froze.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I'm so s—"

"Don't stop!" Thor exclaimed. "Ordinary Midgardians are unable to withstand longer than a couple of minutes without oxygen."

"But her rib! What if I accidentally puncture her —?"

Out of patience, blind with panic, Thor pushed Steve aside. He got to work pounding away at Jessica's chest, only giving several compressions before blowing into her mouth. This was not the sort of medical training he had ever had to receive on Asgard. Thus, unsurprisingly, he had hardly touched her ten times before the horrific _crack_! of another rib sounded.

"Thor!" Steve shouted.

Before he could yank the god away, Jessica lurched up, retching. She twisted to her side, crying out through the water in her throat at the pain of her broken bones.

Both Thor and Steve could've collapsed with relief. She was alive.

Thor clapped Jessica between her shoulder blades as she coughed up more and more water. He had to remind himself to be hold back a little, be gentle, what with her fragile frame.

"That's it, darling. Breathe. _Breathe_."

Once there was no water left in her lungs, Steve dropped to his knees and cupped Jessica's face in his hands.

"Talk to me, Jessica. Can you hear me?"

Jessica, shivering so intensely she looked like she was going to shatter, collapsed backwards. Thor caught her before she could hit the sand, propping her up in his lap. Steve kept her head level between his hands.

"C-c-c-cold," she got out.

Steve was not satisfied. He rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs, trying to restore some of their colour. "Do you know where you are?"

"B-b-beach," she told him. When Thor shifted, trying to better support her weight, she flinched and hissed. "Hurts."

Steve couldn't quell the terror fluttering in his chest at the sight of little Jessica Stark, broken and wet and drained of colour, and so he smoothed away more of her hair, just for something to do. It was all mangled and beaded with grains of sand.

"You're gonna be alright, Jessie. That storm came out of nowhere — pulled you into the rocks." With her face cleared, Steve noticed the gash across her temple. Dark bruises had already begun to rise across the whole left side of her face. He tried to dab the dried blood, but stopped himself at Jessica's whimper.

"I'm sorry. You must've hit your head. But you're safe now." Steve looked up at Thor. "She needs medical attention, fast. If you can just carry her back to the house, I'll get the car."

"You are too hasty, Captain," Thor said. "We must first restore her body heat. Midgardian healers can be summoned, can they not?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Okay. New plan — we take Jessica back to the house, get her wrapped up, and call an ambulance." He tried to get Jessica to look at him, but her eyes were glassy. "Stay with us, Jess. We're getting you help."

Thor started to lift Jessica into his arms, but at her pained cry he stopped.

"Careful," Steve snapped. "If you move her too much, you could puncture her lungs."

Thor froze. "How do I know how much she can be moved?"

"I-I don't know. Just be careful."

So, as delicately as the god of thunder was capable, Thor lifted Jessica and carried her toward the house. She grit her teeth to keep from yelping at every footstep. The pain was easier when she held her breath, but she was dizzy enough as it was, and assumed that neither man would take too kindly to her passing out.

Somehow, Steve picked up on her sparse and shallow breaths. He had his serious Captain America voice on when he said, "I need you to breathe deep, kid. In and out. I know it hurts, but you've gotta stick with us."

Jessica did as she was told to the best of her ability. She forced herself to keep her eyes open — more to keep the guys from freaking out than to keep herself awake. The pain was too savage for her to fall asleep.

"Good job," Steve encouraged. "Just like that. We're gonna get you patched up."

"And warm," Thor said. Quieter, he added, "It's like carrying ice."

The trio burst through the back door. Thor rushed Jessica to the nearest sofa and, gently as possible, laid her down. She sighed in relief, only to blurt out a syllable of pain from her chest. She tipped her head back, just trying to breathe.

"Steve," she said, watching him and Thor dart about the room for blankets. "Did I…drown?"

Steve handed Thor a duvet from the linen cupboards and grabbed a telephone. "Just keep up with that deep breathing, Jessie, everything's gonna be okay." He shot Thor a look that said, _keep her calm._

But, realizing Steve was now in the process of calling 911, Jessica was anything but calm. Her jaw dropped.

"Oh my G-G-God," she said. "I'm so sorry, I can't believe I was that stupid."

"Shh, shh." Thor smothered her in the duvet, and proceeded to pile on several other fluffy blankets. "Fear not, little Stark. All is well now."

"I should've been more careful — I scared you. It was an accident, I swear, I never wanted to hurt anyone —"

"Be still, my dear," Thor coaxed her. "You must rest."

Hearing Steve talking to the emergency operator, Jessica only grew more agitated.

"No, no, I'm okay," she insisted, "I'm feeling better. You don't have to call anyone."

"You are injured," Thor explained softly, "beyond our capacity to heal you."

"Oh, God." Jessica groaned, hiding her eyes behind the heels of her palms. Even that slight pressure on her face shot pain across her entire skull. " _Dammit_. I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry."

"Jessica, I beg of you to remain calm."

"Alright." From behind them, Steve put down the phone. "Paramedics are on their way." Seeing Jessica, out of breath, and Thor trying helplessly to placate her, Steve made for the sofa. He sunk to his knees at Jessica's side.

"Hey. Hey. Deep breaths, Jessie. We talked about this."

"I-I messed up," she panted.

"You did no such thing," Thor asserted. "The heavens betrayed you at sea."

"Thor's right," Steve said. "There are some things you can't control. Listen to me — it's okay now. We've got you. Everything. Is. Okay."

"You're not angry?"

"I'm not angry."

"You're not upset?"

"I'm not upset."

"You're wet too." Jessica's fuzzy vision only just picked up on it. "Are you okay?"

Steve laughed. "A concussion and two broken ribs and she asks if the super soldier is okay." He rubbed her arm under the blanket, tucking her under even tighter. "Yes, doll, I'm okay. Now what do you say we help you get okay again too?"

Jessica nodded, her panic finally ebbing away. She smiled. "Yeah."

"Great. Now, breathe in, nice and deep."

Jessica did as she was told, flinching at the distinct ache in her chest.

"And out," Steve instructed.

Thor leaned back in and took Jessica's hand. "Squeeze when it hurts," he told her. "Hard as you like."

This process repeated itself a couple dozen times before the ambulance turned up. Paramedics came in with a stretcher, carefully lifting Jessica on and whisking her away. With only one extra passenger allowed, Steve tagged along, and Thor flew after them with Mjölnir.

Meanwhile, at the Avengers Tower, Tony Stark had just finished with a rather boring meeting. He left the conference room, craving a drink, and headed for the bar, when JARVIS's voice came through the intercom.

" _Sir, there appears to be activity at your house in Long Beach_."

Tony waved his hand. "I know, J. It's just Jessica and a couple of the guys. She wanted a weekend out of the city."

" _Yes, sir, I recall. Allow me to specify: it appears emergency services have arrived at your house in Long Beach."_

At that, Tony froze. "What, cops?"

" _Paramedics."_

"Paramedics?! What happened?"

" _Of that I am uncertain."_

"Is it Jessie? Is she okay?"

 _"Regretfully, of that I am also uncertain."_

Tony was already headed for the elevator. "Killing me with the ambiguity, JARVIS."

" _Apologies, sir. I suggest you investigate the situation yourself at the Long Beach Memorial Medical Centre."_

Tony was there in half an hour, reducing the trip by fifteen minutes with his mad speeding. He dumped his fancy sports car in a disabled spot and made a bee-line for the front desk, out of breath.

"Jessica Stark," he said. "Where is she?"

The receptionist's eyes bugged. "Oh my. Mr Stark. It-it's such a pleasure to meet you."

"Jessica Stark," Tony repeated. " _Where is she_?"

"Uh, she's still in the E.R. You'll have to wait with your friend until the attending doctors are finished."

"Friend?" Tony surveyed the room. In the chair closest to the swinging doors, he caught sight of Thor. The god had his head in his hands, staring at the floor, and must not have heard Tony enter. Tony stormed toward him.

"Hey — what happened?" He demanded. "What the hell happened?"

Thor's head snapped up. "Stark." Seeing the father's expression; half hysterical, half enraged; he put up his hands. "The healers assured us she would be fine."

"That doesn't answer my question, blondie!"

Thor's jaw hardened. "Jessica got caught out in the oceans when a storm came in. Captain Rogers swam out to her in time, but we couldn't restore her breathing without…consequences."

Tony looked just about ready to explode. As much as he would've liked to punch Thor right across his perfectly chiselled face — not out of anger, just out of raw energy — he instead turned to the double doors and shoved his way through.

Thor stood up to stop him, but Tony could not be stopped. He scanned the space with a crazed look in his eyes, his heart positively hammering, until he saw a familiar face: Captain America, wearing a grim expression. He held Jessica's hand, watching as a doctor bound her chest, murmuring words of encouragement every time she flinched.

Seeing Jessica on the medical table, her hair a half-dry mess, her head bandaged up, mostly exposed but for a thin hospital gown, Tony could've blown up then and there. Instead, forcing himself to reign in his emotions for Jessica's sake, he strode toward them.

"Jessica," he gushed. He seized her other hand and pulled her in to kiss her forehead, holding her as close as he could without interrupting the doctor's work. "My poor baby. What happened? Are you okay?"

Jessica offered a weary half-smile. "I'm fine, Dad. Got a little knocked around out in the water."

The doctor cast a look to Tony. "Mr Stark, I assume," she said. "'Fine' may be a bit of an overstatement, with a severe concussion, two broken ribs, and pneumonia. But your rest assured, your daughter will pull through." The doctor tucked away the last of the bandaging and retied Jessica's hospital gown. "There we go." She excused herself to check on another patient.

Steve rubbed Jessica's back. "You did great, Jessie."

" _You_." Tony jabbed a finger at Steve. "You were supposed to be looking out for her. What the hell happened?"

"Dad," Jessica snapped before Steve could respond. "It's not his fault. The storm came out of nowhere. I should've come back to shore sooner."

In the back of Tony's head, he had started to put the pieces together. Thor's words — "restore her breathing", "consequences". The doctor's diagnosis — "two cracked ribs", "pneumonia". Tony had to grip his daughter's hand tighter to keep himself from throttling the super soldier.

"My little girl got hurt," he said through gritted teeth. "Almost _died_."

"Dad!" Jessica said. "Thor and Steve saved my life. Without them, I would've died."

"For God's sake, Jess." Tony studied her bandaged face more carefully, holding it in his hands to examine from different angles. He sighed. "I could've lost you."

Jessica looked down. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't _ever_ do that again."

"What — drown? Yeah, thanks for the tip. I'll do my best."

Tony shook his head, unable to chastise her for her sarcasm, having inherited it from him in the first place. He asked, "Are you hurting? What can I do?"

"The doctor prescribed her some painkillers," Steve put in. "And antibiotics."

"Good." Tony nodded. "Good." He smiled. "Let's bust you out of here."


	8. Tony's daughter gets assaulted

JESSICA GETS ASSAULTED

Jessica didn't understand her body clock sometimes. For once, she decided to have an early night, maybe catch the sunrise on her jog the next morning. She'd taken her night pills, snuggled up in bed next to Natasha, and passed out. Yet here she was, three in the morning, wide awake and desperately craving a Kit Kat, of all things. She huffed.

Gently, Jessica untangled herself from Natasha. Convinced nothing could dissuade this random urge, she proceeded to snag a pair of shoes and a hoodie from her closet, and sneak out of the room. Natasha was completely worn out from her last mission — she didn't notice the other woman leave.

So, in the dead of night, Jessica exited the Avengers Tower and crossed the road to buy a Kit Kat from the 24-hours convenience store. Even for New York city, the streets were near deserted. Jessica made her way in and out of the convenience store undisturbed. Only as she was crossing the road to get back to the Tower, halfway through her Kit Kat, did someone run into her path. Someone _s_ , to be more specific.

The second she saw them, three young men in beanies and dark clothes, her blood turned cold.

"Evening, gorgeous," the first guy said. The other two were busy backing Jessica into a wall. The first guy smirked. "Little late to be roaming around, don't you think?"

Kit Kat suddenly forgotten, Jessica bared her fists. Readied herself. "Past your bedtime, is it?"

The men laughed. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the first guy flashed a pocket knife. He stepped in, real close to Jessica. Too close. Breath hot on her face, he hissed, "Let's keep this simple. Give us anything of value you've got on, and we'll be on our way."

Jessica hardened her jaw. Forced herself to stay calm. She hadn't brought her wallet with her, or her phone. She'd only brought a couple of dollars to pay for the chocolate — it was all she figured she'd need.

"I don't have anything."

"Bullshit."

"God's truth."

The first guy sneered. "Search her."

The two other men were more than happy to oblige. They grappled at every crevice and bulge on Jessica's form, snickering and muttering amongst themselves. Jessica stiffened all the way to her core, sealing her lips closed to hold back her snarls. Turning aggressive would only make the situation worse. She knew as well as they did that she couldn't take on three guys at once. Her best bet was to keep quiet. Suppress emotion. Emotion, they could feed off of. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

Finally, one of the guys turned back to his ringleader. "Nothing," he said.

Veins swelling to life on his face, the first guy stepped forward and shoved Jessica against the wall, harder. He pinned her there by her shoulders, mouth twisted by a grimace.

"Think we're gonna let you off that easy?" He said. "You might not have any cash, but you've got something else we want."

The man released one of her shoulders to grab her chest. He grinned.

At that, Jessica snapped. Releasing a syllable of rage, she shot her knee up between the man's legs. Immediately he doubled over, releasing her, wheezing. Jessica tried to bolt, only for one of the other guys to pin her back against the wall. He produced a knife of his own and held it at her waist. A warning for if she tried to run again.

After a minute, the first guy finally recovered. He clasped his hand around Jessica's neck, choking the breath out of her. With the other hand, he revealed his pocket knife, and slowly carved a line down the side of her face. Jessica tried to scream, but no sound would come out.

Just as she started to see black spots, the man let her go. As an ensemble, the men proceeded to beat Jessica to a pulp. The slapped and punched and kicked her until she was on her hands and knees, coughing up blood. When they were finally done, the first guy pulled her back to her feet by her hair. He pulled her in close.

"Hope you've learned your lesson, dirty little bitch."

They left her there on the street, bleeding and bruised. Jessica waited until they were out of earshot, then spat some more blood out of her mouth. Every inch of her throbbed. She slumped against the wall and examined her injuries. Some nasty swelling, a few cuts and scrapes, but nothing broken. Nothing irreparable. She forced herself back into standing and limped the rest of the way to the Tower.

At the door, however, Jessica encountered a bit of an issue. The security system wouldn't let her enter. With led in her gut, she remembered that JARVIS was offline for the next 24 hours while her dad tinkered with his security protocols. She needed her keycard to get back in. Jessica felt her pockets. A key card she didn't have.

Damn.

Resigned, eventually, to her fate, Jessica rang the doorbell. Surely she didn't look that bad. Surely no one would make too big of a deal. She rang again.

It took at least five minutes, but Jessica finally saw a familiar face at the intercom screen. Bruce Banner rubbed some sleep out of his eye, trying to get a look at her. "Hello?" His voice was groggy.

"Bruce, it's me. I got locked out."

"Jessica? It's three a.m. What are you doing up at this —" The door opened and Bruce's face dropped. "Hour."

Jessica sighed. From the look in Bruce's eye, she already knew she was screwed. "'Sup."

"Oh my…oh my God, Jessica." Completely awake now, Bruce reached forward. He put his hands on Jessica's shoulders, as gently as he could, and then held her face, frantically scanning the damage. He forced her to look at him. "What happened?"

"I went to the convenience store. A couple guys jumped me on the way back."

"What?" Green crept up the veins in Bruce's neck. " _Where_?"

"Hey." Jessica lifted his hands away. "Leave it. They're long gone. Calm down — everything's okay now. I'm okay."

"The hell you are!"

Jessica closed her eyes. "Can we just go inside, please?"

Seeing her expression, the pain on her face in between pink and purple blotches, Bruce's anger subsided.

"Yeah. I mean, yes. Of course. C'mon, I've got you."

Bruce put his arm around Jessica and led her inside, closing the door behind them. Sensing her weakness, he supported her weight all the way up the elevator, until he could lay her down on the sofa in the communal living area.

"Stay right here," he instructed. "I'm just going to grab the first aid kit from the kitchen."

Jessica hardly had the energy to nod. Bruce scurried off, reluctant to leave her side for even a moment. He knew fully well that she wasn't in any imminent danger, and that her injuries were all superficial, but he'd be damned if that kept him from worrying.

While he was in the kitchen, across the space, two new pairs of footsteps entered. Steve Rogers and Clint Barton emerged from the hallway, both with scruffy hair and puffy eyes.

"What's going on?" Steve asked.

"I heard voices," Clint said.

"It's Jessica," Bruce muttered. He closed one of the kitchen cupboards and hurried back to Jessica's bedside with the first aid kit. "Some guys tried to mug her outside the Tower."

" _What_?" Steve demanded. Finally, he saw Jessica on the couch, all black and blue, and fire filled his whole body.

Clint had already retrieved his bow and arrows, presumably from somewhere he'd stashed them in the room for emergencies. "Which way did they go?"

"Leave them alone, Clint," Jessica muttered. "I'll file a police report tomorrow."

"Or, I could blow their brains out here and now."

" _Clint_."

"Barton has a point," Steve interjected. "Death is rarely a just punishment for crime, but in this case…" he met Jessica's swollen eye. "I'd be more than willing to make an exception."

At the cotton bud soaked in antiseptic pressed against Jessica's face, she hissed. Perhaps it was that pain, perhaps it was the exhaustion crashing back down on her, or perhaps it was the stress of the night's events, that led her to a breaking point. Much more of the Avengers' incessant worrying and she was bound to snap.

"For once," she ground out, "can you guys just do what I say and leave this alone?"

Steve strode forward, still fuming. "Some street thugs corner and beat up my best girl, and you want me to leave it alone?"

"I'll need a rough visual character profile," Clint said. "Just enough to track them. Can't have gotten far."

"Stop!"

Bruce, Steve and Clint finally paused. They all looked at Jessica. At their gaze, Jessica's wavering composure finally fell away. Her eyes flickered — a culmination of the pain, fatigue, and shock — and she bit her bottom lip to stop it trembling, only to gasp at the ache and remember it had been split.

She said, "I'm sore, and I'm tired, and I really don't want to deal with this right now. For the love of God, please drop it. At least until morning."

Jessica getting sniffly was enough to make Steve melt. The raging heat in his body diminished to a smouldering warmth. He joined Bruce at her side, gently squeezing in next to her on the sofa and pulling her against him. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, like a protective barrier.

"I'm sorry. We're here now, and we'll stay with you as long as you need." Steve kissed the top of Jessica's head. "You're safe now."

"That's what matters," Bruce said. He glanced at Clint over his shoulder. "Right, Barton?"

Clint folded his arms. He had not lost his steely expression. "Right." He hesitated. "Until morning. When I hunt those bastards down."

Jessica rolled her eyes.

Bruce got back to work, cleaning up the dried blood on Jessica's face. For the wet blood, still dribbling out of her nose and from a small cut above her eyebrow, he gently tilted her head back, and asked for Bruce to grab something cold out of the freezer.

Jessica groaned. "Why am I staring at the ceiling?"

Bruce shone a penlight in her eyes, checking for signs of concussion. "Reduce blood flow." For a moment, he tilted her head back down. "Follow my finger."

"I am not concussed."

Steve laughed dryly. "How about we let the doctor make that call?"

So, Jessica did as she was told, to the best of her abilities, but found that trying to follow Bruce's finger with her eyes made her feel increasingly nauseous. She looked away.

"Okay." She swallowed. "There is a possibility I am concussed."

Clint presented Bruce with a slab of frozen meat wrapped in a dish cloth. Bruce held the cloth against Jessica's face. She flinched away.

Steve rubbed Jessica's back. "Trust me, doll, it'll help."

Jessica gave Bruce a pointed look. "If this is meant to help with the pain by numbing me out, I think I'll just take the Aspirin."

Bruce sighed. "Sorry Jess, no can do. Painkillers slow the clotting process. Cause more bleeding."

"Banner," Steve murmured. "She just about got the life beat out of her. Can't you give her something?"

"Under other circumstances, I might prescribe a sedative to help her sleep through the pain, but not with her concussion. I'm sorry, Jessie."

Jessica rubbed her forehead, before remembering how sore it was and pulling away. "It's alright, doc. Pain isn't that bad." She leaned back against Steve and tipped her head back like Bruce had originally instructed. "Gotta assume I'll just pass out eventually."

Steve held onto her more tightly. "I'll keep you company. Long as you need."

The elevator doors chimed, signalling another arrival. Half-asleep, Tony Stark trudged into the room. Voice thick with sleep, he said, "JARVIS said you guys were having a party without me. I'd like to say I'm not hurt."

" _Actually, sir, I said they were congregating._ "

Tony waved his hand. Halfway through the gesture, he finally saw Jessica, beaten and bloody on the sofa, being treated by Bruce and supported by Steve. He froze.

"Jessie."

Jessica lurched up, predicting an outburst on her father's behalf. "Dad, just hang on —" A dizzy spell fell over her. She blinked.

Steve leapt to the rescue, catching her by the elbows and slowly escorting her back to the sofa. "Easy, kid. Easy. I've got you."

"JARVIS," Tony said.

" _Yes sir_?"

"Get my suit ready. Someone is about to wish they were never born."

xxx

 **A/N: hey readers, let me know if you've got requests, I'd be interested to hear them.**


	9. Tony's daughter harassed by paparazzi

JESSICA GETS HARASSED BY PAPARAZZI

More than six months had passed of Jessica and Natasha's relationship before Jessica had had enough. Enough of the secrets, enough of the tension, enough of the sneaking around. She was in love with this incredible woman, and having to confine that love to the walls of the Avengers Tower was starting to get exhausting.

When she finally brought these feelings up with Natasha, the spy was hesitant.

"You know why things have to be this way, Jess. It's not safe for us to be on display to the world."

"I don't care anymore," Jessica asserted. "I'm sick of hiding."

Natasha sighed. "And what would you have us do, as a public…spectacle?"

"It doesn't have to be like that. I just want to do something normal couples do. Go for ice cream. Hold hands. Have dinner together at a nice restaurant."

Natasha arched a single eyebrow. "You want to go on a date?"

Jessica's face lit up. "A date. Yeah! A date."

At the prospect, Natasha couldn't deny her own excitement. She advanced on Jessica, winding her arms around the other woman's waist. "And that would make you happy?"

Jessica smiled. She pressed her forehead against Natasha's. "I'm always happy with you."

Their eyes met for a brief, electric moment, before the two women closed in for a kiss.

Clint popped into Natasha's room that evening. It took her a split second to notice his presence, even though she was focused on her reflection in the mirror, examining her outfit. Nothing too fancy — the restaurant's dress code was marked as 'smart casual' — but she wanted to look nice. She couldn't say she'd ever been on an honest-to-God _date_ before, especially not with someone she cared for as much as Jessica.

Clint leaned against her doorframe and folded his arms. "Someone's got plans tonight, huh?"

Natasha caught his look in the mirror. She focused back on her blouse, trying to decide whether or not to leave the top button done up. "You could say that."

"With Jess."

Nat paused. "That obvious?"

He smirked. "You wouldn't be so picky about an outfit if it was with anyone else." He wandered into the room. "So what's the deal? You guys going on a date or something?"

"Something like that."

"Really? Stark's letting you take his daughter out in public?"

Nat rolled her shoulders back, standing up straighter. "What Mr Stark doesn't know won't hurt him."

"No, but it might hurt you."

"I can handle him."

"Can Jess?"

Nat met Clint's look in the mirror again. Her jaw hardened.

Once again, lower, she said, "What Mr Stark doesn't know won't hurt him."

Clint sighed. "Alright, message received. I'm not gonna rat you out. Just be careful."

Thus, with all the discretion the couple could muster, Natasha and Jessica slipped out of the Avengers Tower that night and sat themselves down at their 8pm dinner reservation. Natasha had specifically requested a dark corner table where they would be least visible, providing Jessica with ample opportunity to reach over and hold her girlfriend's hand, and gently intertwine their legs under the table. They studied each other's faces under the candlelight, talking softly, smiling widely.

They'd only made it a third of the way through the night when Natasha's keen senses told her they were being watched. The waiter assigned to their table had undoubtedly said something to the rest of the staff, who kept glancing over, and other couples and families at their tables murmured amongst each other.

The spy was willing to let all of that go, for Jessica's sake, who hadn't stopped smiling since they got there. What made her more uneasy, however, was the young man who approached their table. She stiffened.

"Good evening, ladies." He had a cheap and lazy smirk; the kind that indicated he was envisioning the two of them without their clothes on. "Couldn't help but recognize a couple of familiar faces. Black Widow — it's an honour." He looked at Jessica. "And hello there. Why do you I feel like I've seen you before?"

Jessica shrugged. "Can't imagine where."

The man's face lit up a second later. "You're Stark's girl, aren't you? Knew I knew you from somewhere." And then he frowned. "I didn't realize you two were so tight. Where's the rest of the squad?" He laughed. "Avengers assemble, am I right?"

Natasha's glare was piercing. "You are not."

He raised his hands. "Easy, tiger. Didn't mean to intrude."

"Could've fooled me."

Instinctively, Jessica reached for Natasha's hand. "Nat," she murmured.

The man watched the gesture. His jaw dropped. But, at Natasha's death stare, he thought better of saying anything, and slowly backed off.

"You ladies enjoy your night."

For the rest of their meal, Nat and Jess let themselves believe that that would be the end of it. One sleazy guy was no big deal.

At least, that was what they let themselves believe until exiting the restaurant.

A mob of reporters and photographers bombarded the couple, closing in on them almost immediately. Jessica gasped, but the sound got swallowed by clicking cameras and raised voices.

"What's going on with you two?"

"Is this a lesbian relationship?"

"Does your father know?"

Natasha gripped Jessica's hand, holding her close. "Stick with me," she whispered into Jessica's ear.

"Hey, Jessica!"

"Jessica!"

"Jess!"

"Are you gay?"

"Are you and the Black Widow having sex?"

"How long has this been going on?"

"What does Mr Stark have to say about this?"

Natasha did her best to shoulder her way through the crowd, get them the hell out of there, but just when they thought they were clear, the mob would close in again. Jessica's brain was a whirlwind. Her breaths were short and scarce. She felt sweat break out over her skin.

 _Oh God, what have I done?  
_

"Move on," Natasha commanded, "there's nothing to see. Out of the way. Out of the way!"

But the crowd was incessant. Insatiable. This was the juiciest thing they'd had from the Stark family in months. Maybe years.

"Hey! Hey! Look over here, Jess!"

"Give us a smile, Jessie!"

"How's the sex, girls?"

"Bet she's gorgeous under all those clothes, huh Widow?"

"How does Tony feel about his daughter whoring around with the Black Widow?"

Natasha finally snapped. Rage flared up, hot and high, all the way into her face. She grabbed the nearest reporter by the cuff of his shirt and punched him right across the jaw. He turned to dead weight on the ground.

"Nat!" Jessica screamed.

The rest of them went crazy. Cameras snapped like machine gunfire. Voices merged together into a mess of noise. Now that Nat's hands were free, the reporters went after Jessica, grappling at her clothes, tugging her away.

With a mad series of offensive manoeuvres, Natasha had fought them off. She wrapped her arm around Jessica's waist.

"We're getting the hell out of here."

The two of them had to practically sprint for a taxi, just managing to outrun the press.

"Avengers Tower," Jessica told the cabbie, out of breath.

The women spoke little for the duration of the drive home. Natasha could hardly look at Jessica; ashamed, embarrassed, afraid. She never should've agreed to leave the tower as a couple. She should've been able to protect her. She couldn't live without her.

They had taken quite literally one step into the Avengers Tower when a very agitated Tony Stark leapt on them. He went for Natasha first, veins bulging in his face, tendons bulging in his neck. He seized her by the shoulders and steered her away from Jessica. The spy would've had no problem fending him off, but decided to hold back. The situation was escalated enough as it was.

"Dad!" Jessica cried.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" Tony demanded. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Jessica tried to pull him off, to no effect. "It was my idea," she claimed. "Nat was only going along with what I wanted."

"You knew the danger," Tony said. "You knew what parading her around as your girlfriend would do to her."

"Tony—" Nat started.

"No," he cut her off, "I'm not done."

"Dad, please," Jessica begged, "it wasn't her fault."

"Jess won't just be in the spotlight now. She's won't just be a target. You've made her priority number one. Ironman's daughter _and_ Black Widow's plaything? They'll never leave her alone!"

"I'll protect her," Natasha asserted. "Always."

"That's my _daughter_ , Romanoff! That's my _kid_. Who the hell do you think you are?"

" _Dad_!" As hard as she tried, Jessica still couldn't gather enough strength to drag her father away. Her voice started to break. "Dad, please, stop."

"What's going on in here?"

Jessica turned around to see Steve, Thor and Clint enter the room, all wearing matching stern expressions. Clint stood out only in the small flicker in his eyes; he, too, had seen the news.

"Steve," Jessica said, "help me, he's lost it."

Steve bolted into action. He clasped Tony by the bicep and yanked him away from Natasha. "Hey!" He snapped. "Watch it." He looked at Nat, frowning with the unspoken question of why she hadn't knocked him off herself. "You okay?"

She nodded. Her face was grim.

Tony, now separated from her, jabbed a finger at Natasha. "I oughta kick you out here and now."

"Calm yourself, Stark," Thor commanded. "What is the reason for this madness?"

"Haven't you seen the news, blondie?" Tony said. "Doesn't matter which channel."

Still frowning, Steve glanced between Natasha and Jessica. "What's he talking about?"

Jessica couldn't seem to muster a response. Natasha retained her stony silence.

With a sigh, Clint stepped forward. "Nat and Jess went on a date. Got caught out by the press. It's everywhere."

Steve's rubbed his jawline. "Crap."

Thor's face dropped. "Oh."

"You're damn right 'oh'," Tony growled. He tried to move in on Natasha again, but Steve put a hand on his chest to hold him back. "Thanks to little missy over here, Jessica is now in more danger than ever."

"For the last time," Jessica said, "it was _my_ idea. Nat was the one who didn't want to go through with it. If you're going to attack anyone, attack me."

So Tony turned on his daughter. "Do you want to be taken hostage? Tortured? Slaughtered? Cause you can bet someone is out there is making that exact plan as we speak."

"Tony," Steve warned. "Lay off."

"You're seriously telling me this doesn't make you crazy?" Tony said. "Knowing the damage that's been done? The risk? Knowing they'll come for her?"

"I'd like to see them try," Natasha said.

"Keep it up, Widow, and you'll get your wish."

Finally, Natasha stepped forward. Her chest swelled, gathering the words. The strength. "You keep talking about Jessica being in more danger than ever. True or not, it doesn't matter. Because she also happens to be standing in the safest space she could ever hope for."

Thor tilted his head. "The Tower?"

"No." Natasha smirked. "Next to me."

Jessica approached her girlfriend, ignoring her father's bristling, and nestled into the other woman's arm. She smiled. "I'm tired of hiding this. Ready or not, the secret was going to come out. And yeah, it was messy, and I'm gonna have to be on high alert for a while, but if that's the cost for being with her…" She looked up at Natasha. "It's a cost I'm willing to pay."

"And if I'm not?" Tony said.

"Then I guess I'll have to start hunting for an apartment."

Tony's eyes closed briefly. "If something were to happen to you—"

"I know, dad."

"If someone were to hurt you—"

"I know."

Tony set his glare on Natasha. "I would kill you."

This time it was Natasha who responded, "I know."

They baked in the following silence, just staring at each other. Hardly even blinking.

Finally, Tony said, "Jess is under house arrest for the next couple weeks."

Jessica did a double take. "What?"

"Agreed," said Natasha.

Jessica waved her arms. "Um, hello! Still here!"

"We'll wait for the drama to die down," Natasha told her. "The world will move onto something else. Until then, you're safest here, where we can all protect you."

Jessica groaned. "I'm gonna lose my mind."

"Your mind is secondary," Tony said. "What I care about is your heart. More specifically, that it keeps beating. This is not up for discussion. You two went out there, now you've gotta live the consequences."

Jessica started to protest when Natasha put a hand on her shoulder. Jessica's heart sunk.

She was in for a long couple of weeks.


	10. Tony's daughter gets taken hostage

JESSICA TAKEN HOSTAGE BY THE KGB

It had been just over a month before the Avengers felt Jessica could leave the Tower unattended. Even then, it was only during the 11am-3pm window they'd let her roam free. ('Free' being closely monitored by the GPS in her phone, of course). Buzz about Natasha and Jessica had finally begun to die down in the tabloids. Things looked like they might've been going back to normal.

Oddly enough, 'normal' was not how Jessica felt when a set of hands reached around the outside of a bakery and dragged her into the alleyway. She screamed into a big, sweaty palm, but the grinding of New York City would've drowned her out even if her voice was unobstructed. Within seconds she had been tossed into the back of a van and shut off from the rest of the world, hurtling away.

Jessica caught a short glimpse of several grisly older men circling her in the back of the van, but they had knocked her out before she could make a move. Smash the windows. Kick open the doors. Not a chance. The last thing she was conscious of was a phrase. Something in Russian.

" _Svyazhite yeye_."

At the first syllable of JARVIS's voice, Natasha knew something was wrong. Training with Steve in the boxing ring, she pulled back and stopped everything.

" _Miss Romanoff, it appears Jessica's tracker has gone offline_."

Breath steady even though her heart was racing, Natasha demanded, "Where did you lose it?"

" _Outside Harold's Bakery_."

Natasha had already slipped under the ropes. "Get surveillance in the skies. Ten mile radius. Now."

Steve was close behind her, following Natasha to the elevator. Either smart enough to know that the Stark tech in Jessica's phone wouldn't have randomly malfunctioned, or too close to Jessica to take any risks, he got straight to action.

"JARVIS. How long since you lost the signal?"

" _One hundred and thirty-six seconds and counting, sir."_

He looked at Natasha. "She can't have gotten far in that time. The roads are packed."

"Don't make assumptions, Rodgers," she ground out her response, "you'll cloud my judgement."

Steve's jaw set. "Somehow I don't think I've got anything to do with your clouded judgement."

Finally letting her composure snap, even if only for a second, Natasha spun around on Steve. "Are you really telling me you don't have a gut-wrenching urge to find her right now? Make sure she's safe?"

"You know I do."

"Then stay out of my way."

Steve was smart enough not to push that conversation, not that he would have had a chance: the elevator doors slid open and Natasha tore out. She snagged a couple of the weapons stashed away in the foyer — some handguns under marble counters — and secured them in her grasp. She made for the main doorway.

Tony, having received the same report from JARVIS but not quite as fast as the super spy and soldier, got to the foyer just as Natasha had left. He blocked Steve from following her, his brow crinkled and eyes sharp.

"What do you know?"

"No more than you," Steve told him. "Nat's already on it."

"Yeah, well." Tony made for the door. "So am I." In the several seconds it took for him to get to the entrance, different pieces of his suit seemed to materialize out of nowhere and attach themselves to his form. By the time he was outside, he was completely armoured up, ready for anything.

Steve didn't waste any time before taking off in the same direction. Black Widow, Iron Man, and Captain America made three. Wherever Jessica was, wherever she'd been taken, the team would not rest until she was home.

The trio gathered in the spot Jessica's GPS had gone offline. The super spy and soldier tracked the scuffs on the pavement into the alley around back. Tony sniffed the air. His face wrinkled up.

"Gas. Fresh. Someone drove her out of here."

Natasha had to hold herself back from punching a hole in the wall. She crouched down, trying to get a better look at the tire tracks. She traced them with one of her fingertips. Meanwhile, Steve paced the width of the alleyway, running his hands through his hair over and over again, hissing curses under his breath. And Tony was doing what he did best; fiddling with a piece of technology, and getting snappy with JARVIS.

"Give me something, J. Anything."

" _I'm sorry, sir, she's gone completely offline."_

"Well then get her back _on_ line! You're the most sophisticated software on the planet — _find my daughter_."

" _I'm doing my best, Mr Stark, but I'm afraid there is very little to go on."_

Before Tony could go off, Natasha stood up. "Toyota HiAce. Headed south. Wasn't going faster than fifty miles an hour, but I'm willing to bet they're taking all back lanes. Could be anywhere by now."

"Those tracks?" Steve pointed where Nat had been crouching.

Natasha nodded.

Steve had already broken into a jog. "I'll let you know how far I can follow them!"

Holding themselves back from going after him, Nat and Tony forced themselves to act rationally. Tony was first to speak.

"Get back to the Tower. Compile a list of suspects — my enemies, yours, the Avengers'. Suss them out."

"Are you seriously benching me?"

"No, I'm getting you to do your job. Espionage 101. Track down the target."

"And what are you going to do?"

Tony's suit lifted off the ground. He rose a few feet into the air.

"I'm taking to the skies. I'm gonna find her."

But, regardless of their efforts, Jessica was nowhere to be found. Tony gave up trying to find a Toyota HiAce amidst the hundreds of other white vans on New York roads, Steve's trail ran cold, and Natasha's list of enemies never seemed to end. Anyone could've taken her, and they could've taken her anywhere. The longer she'd been gone, the further away she could've been. The Avengers could feel her distance like a deepening chasm in their guts. Panic infiltrated their systems. Every second they could keep it together was a miracle.

"Barton." Natasha marched into the computer lab, where Bruce and Clint were hard at work. "Update."

Clint slipped one of the headphones off his ear and glanced up at her. "No sign of her on any underground U.S stations, but I'm picking something up on another continent. Eastern, I think."

Steve's face dropped. "They've taken her to another _continent_? That's not possible."

"No, it isn't," Bruce confirmed. "But it is possible to divert the signal. Run it through overseas servers."

"They're trying to throw us off," Clint said. "Keep us from pinning them down to a specific location."

"We don't have the time to be thrown off," Steve said. "They could be doing anything to her. We have to find her. Now."

"No offence, Cap, but stating the obvious isn't gonna help," Clint muttered. "I'm working as fast as I can to latch onto the signal."

"Show me," Nat demanded. She pulled the headphones off of Clint and clasped them over her ears. Clint fiddled with the controls, setting it to the right frequency, and Nat closed her eyes in concentration. Within seconds, she paled. Her eyes widened.

"What?" Bruce said. "What do you hear?"

Natasha swallowed. "Russian."

Bruce's heart sunk. Clint's head dropped. Steve chest swelled. Natasha ground her teeth.

Bruce dared to ask, "KGB?"

Natasha pulled the headphones off and stood up straight. "They want me, dead or alive. Preferably dead."

"So where are you going?" Bruce demanded as she made for the door.

Natasha didn't even turn around.

"To give them what they want."

"Natasha." Steve seized the spy's arm. Before he could get out another word, she had swung out of his grasp and pinned his wrist to his back. She shoved him against the wall. Steve grunted.

Nothing further to discuss, Natasha released him. She stormed out of the door, and no one in that room was brave enough to stop her. Instead, they geared up, and they marched after her. Begrudgingly, Bruce and Clint agreed to hang back at the Tower for tech support. Besides, this was a hostage situation. Someone needed to man base camp in case, if by some miracle, Jessica made it back on her own.

Steve just made it into the quinjet before Natasha had sealed the doors. She took off into the air, Tony in pursuit in his Iron Man armour. Steve leaned forward on Natasha's backrest as she piloted the jet.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

Eyes glued to the controls, Natasha's response was blunt as ever. "There are only so many hideouts the KGB has in a hundred mile radius."

"And you know where they are?"

At that, Natasha finally did look at Steve. She arched an eyebrow as if to say, _don't ask stupid questions._

" _Super Russian spy Natasha Romanoff knows everything, remember?_ " Tony's voice came through on the intercom. " _Except, apparently, how to protect the one asset that mattered more than anything_."

"I'll get her back, Tony," Natasha ground out.

" _Doesn't change the fact that it's your fault she's gone in the first place._ "

Steve's voice was quiet. "Tony. Not now."

" _Listen up, Romanoff. You're gonna help me bring my daughter back, and then you're gonna get the hell out of her life, you understand?"_

"Tony," Steve said.

" _And so help me God, if there's so much as a single scratch on my baby girl I'll —"_

"Alright, Stark," Steve snapped, "I think you've made yourself clear."

Natasha closed her eyes for the briefest of brief moments before opening them again and holding her head up high. She sniffed once. "I understand."

Steve's face softened. He reached out to put a hand on Natasha's shoulder, and to his surprise she did not flinch away.

"We're gonna find her," he said. "She's gonna be okay."

" _For Romanoff's sake, you'd better hope that's true."_

With a bit of extra help from Clint and Bruce back at the Tower, the group tracked Jessica's location to the second hideout on Natasha's list. No formal plan, no stealth, no real tact, the trio barged into an abandoned shoe warehouse on the outskirts of town. Smack bang in the centre of the factory was Jessica Stark. Tied down to a chair, braid half undone, face bruised to hell, dripping in spit, sweat and blood, she hardly registered their approach. It was hard to get a grip on one's surroundings when one could hardly keep their head level.

Five KGB agents jumped to attention, guns blazing, clearly not anticipating an attack so soon. Only one of the agents had the sense to put his gun to Jessica's head, stopping the Avengers in their tracks.

Tony's mask retracted, revealing an uncharacteristically blanched and panicked expression. "Jessica!" Tendons bulged in his neck. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Jessica stirred only enough for the agent to press his gun harder against her head. She groaned.

Natasha spat something out in Russian. Neither Tony nor Steve could follow the conversation that came after — sharp tones and snappy comebacks. As it progressed, Natasha inched closer and closer. She started to raise her hands — a gesture of surrender.

Finally, the man holding the gun to Jessica's head nodded. Natasha turned to Tony and Steve.

"Untie her."

The men didn't need to be asked twice. They leapt for Jessica, pouncing on her restraints. At their over-enthusiasm, the man tightened his grip on the gun to her head. Tony and Steve stopped. They cast Natasha an uncertain look.

Nat swallowed. "Slowly."

Gentler this time, Tony and Steve got back to work. Steve ripped apart the ropes while Tony tried to keep his daughter awake. He cupped her face, wiping away the gooey threads of blood coming out of her mouth. She could hardly see her father there, her eyes rapidly swelling, but she was aware of something happening. She was being rescued.

"Dad," Jessica gurgled.

"I'm here," Tony assured her. He tried to open one of her eyes, examining the damage, but she just groaned again. Tony pulled back. "I'm here, baby. I got you."

"Where's Nat?" Jessica asked.

"She's here too, Jessie," Steve told her. "She found you."

"No," Jessica moaned. "She can't. They're gonna kill her."

"Nobody's killing anybody," Steve said. He finished untying her, and Jessica slumped forward into Tony's waiting arms. He gathered her limp figure to his steel armoured chest, smoothing her hair and rubbing her back. It was only then that the gun disappeared from Jessica's head, which made no sense to either Tony or Steve until they glanced up.

The agent now had Natasha Romanoff in a chokehold, gun to her head. The entire room knew she was more than capable of freeing herself, but she didn't. She watched Tony and Steve help Jessica to her feet and remained still. If this was the sacrifice she had to make for saving Jessica's life, so be it.

Steve took a step forward. "Let her go."

The agent said something else in Russian, more amused and less agitated this time. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment.

She whispered, "That's not part of the deal."

"What?" Steve's entire body coiled, ready to fight. "We're not trading lives here, Romanoff. Not on my watch."

The Russian agent laughed. He said something else, but this time Natasha didn't bother to translate.

"Get Jessica out of here," she said. "Get her safe."

Jessica was conscious enough to shriek, "No! Nat!"

Natasha's eyes welled with tears. "I said get her _out_ of here!"

Jessica was already sobbing. "Nat!"

But Tony was already on the move. Jessica securely in his arms, he took off, rocketing back to the quinjet where he could get his daughter on a stretcher. He'd have to phone Bruce to figure out where to go from there.

Steve wouldn't give up so easy. In the factory, he remained standing across from Natasha and her captor, trying to keep his breaths steady. He met Natasha's eye.

Nat asked, "Is Jess safe?"

Steve nodded. "She's safe. You did good." He surveyed the room, still poised and ready to leap into action. "Think we can get out of here now?"

Natasha paused. "You're sure she's safe?"

"Tony has her. She's safe."

Natasha nodded — or, nodded as much as she could manage whilst in a chokehold. "Good," she said. And she proceeded to smash the back of her skull into her assailant's forehead, making him stumble back and loosen his grip. It was all she needed. She smacked the gun out of his hand and got to work on beating the crap out of him while Steve took out the rest of the agents. By the time he had knocked them all out, Natasha was still pummelling the head agent, though she had undoubtedly already caved in his skull. Steve had to pull her off.

"Nat, that's enough," he said. "Nat."

Finally, still quivering with rage, Natasha let herself get pulled off. She spat on the agent, turned on her heel, and made for the exit. Steve followed after her. Still high on adrenaline, they sprinted for the quinjet to see how Jessica was doing. They found her unconscious on the stretcher where Tony had laid her, attached to a drip that Bruce had instructed Tony on how to set up over the phone.

Natasha collapsed at Jessica's bedside, grasping the other woman's hand and caressing her face.

"Jessica. Jessica." For the first time, ever, Tony watched the super spy break into tears, her head falling against Jessica's shoulder. Natasha kissed Jessica's hand, still grasping it fiercely. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

With a wet sniffle, Natasha met Tony's eye. "Will she be okay?"

Tony's arms were folded. "That's Banner's call, not mine. You'd better pray it's a good one."

Steve crouched down on Jessica's other side, holding her other hand. He rubbed her fingers, trying to bring some warmth back into them. Finally, his chest deflated, able to relax for the first time all day.

"Bruce will patch her up," he whispered. "We found her. That's what matters." He sighed. "Thank God."

Steve ended up being the one to fly the quinjet home, with Natasha and Tony keeping tabs on Jessica in the rear. It took them less than an hour to make it back to the Tower, where Bruce had already set up the med bay for Jessica's arrival.

"Wheel her in, wheel her in," Bruce said, having instantly assumed full doctor mode. On the count of three, Natasha, Tony, Steve and Clint lifted Jessica from the stretcher to the examining table. She was still only half-conscious, muttering incoherently to herself.

Bruce examined the open wound on Jessica's scalp, and shone a penlight into both of her eyes. "Blunt force trauma," he said. "Likely internal bleeding." He pointed at the IV carrier across the room. "Fill it up and bring it over here. I'll have to do a craniotomy."

Steve was the only person in the room who didn't seem to understand what that meant. He glanced around at the stern, pale faces of Iron Man, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Dr Banner, hoping for an explanation. Finally he asked, "Craniotomy?"

"Doc's gonna drill a hole into her head," Clint explained, dragging over the IV carrier while Natasha found the appropriate fluids to fill it up. "Release some of the pressure."

Steve's stomach dropped. "How serious is it?"

"If all you're gonna do is ask questions, how about you get the hell out of here," Tony snapped. He was still at Jessica's bedside, her hand clasped tightly in his. "You can take Widow with you."

"Tony," Bruce murmured, "I could use an extra set of hands."

"I have extensive medical training," Natasha added. "I know my way around."

"I want her _away from my daughter_ ," Tony growled.

"Not now, Tony," Bruce asserted. "I still need her to help Jess."

"She's helped Jess enough as it fucking is!"

Bruce looked up. He made eye contact with Steve. "Cap. Get him out of here."

Thus, with considerable struggle, Steve dragged Tony out of the infirmary, and the two of them resigned themselves to waiting outside. The men paced and fidgeted uncontrollably, unable to get the image of Jess on the operating table out of their minds; bruised and bloodied, barely clinging to the brink of consciousness, tortured for hours on end by the KGB. The pure, raw energy was undeniable, though neither man could determine its motivation: all of the Russian agents were already dead. Jessica was in good hands. She was home. All there was left to do now was wait.

"I'm gonna kill her," Tony muttered. "I'm gonna _kill_ that bitch."

"Tony," Steve warned.

"Don't bullshit me, Rodgers," Tony snapped. "You _know_ this is her fault. Jessica wouldn't be in that room right now, getting the blood drained out of her skull, if it weren't for Romanoff."

"Yeah, and she probably wouldn't be alive and home right now if it weren't for Romanoff either."

"You're taking her side?"

"I'm not taking a side! Can't I just be glad that Jess is safe now?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded. "Safe. And just how much longer do you think she'll be that way, with the world's most wanted spy on her arm?"

"Because she was safe before, under the infamous Tony Stark's shadow?"

Tony's glower was hot enough to melt the super soldier's flesh. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

Steve sighed. "I dunno, Tony. Just…take it a little easier on Natasha. She's as torn up over this as you are. And she was absolutely ready to give up her life back there for Jess. You know she would've done it."

For a second there, Steve thought Tony might be considering what he had said, but then Tony's glower returned, and his arms folded, and Steve realized there was nothing he could say to placate the man right now.

"No one," Tony said. "No one hurts my baby girl. End of story."

Steve looked away. Why did he have a feeling that this was not going to end well?


End file.
